


It Should Be Easier Now

by thornfield_girl



Category: Justified
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dear John Letter, Forgiveness, Infidelity, Leaving Home, M/M, Pre-Canon, So sweet you'll get a toothache, Trust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-08
Updated: 2012-09-24
Packaged: 2017-11-13 19:48:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 23,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/507090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thornfield_girl/pseuds/thornfield_girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Boyd and Raylan are forced to make a life-changing decision at age 19.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Natural to be Gone

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to norgbelulah for awesome beta and cheerleader work!

Fists and grabbing hands were on them before either of them knew what was happening. They were half-undressed, jeans undone, shirts and shoes off, and far too wrapped up in what they were doing to pay attention to anything else. 

They'd been fooling themselves for weeks, parking out here in the far reaches of Bo Crowder's property, thinking they were well enough hidden. It hadn't been that way in the beginning - they'd been very careful then. They'd been terrified. 

There were five of them - men, not boys - and Boyd didn't recognize a single one of them. He fought hard, as did Raylan, and neither one of them was a stranger to violence or fighting. Still, they did not find themselves equal to five grown, hard men. 

He only had a brief moment of confusion as to what these strangers were doing on his daddy's property, before he understood. 

When they'd been beaten, nearly to unconsciousness, they were thrown into the back of a van and driven down the mountain. They pulled up to Raylan's house, opened the door and tossed him out, but not before one of the men snarled at him that if he wanted to live, he'd best get gone from these parts. 

Boyd was taken back to his daddy's house. 

 

Raylan had been operating on autopilot since the second they were attacked. He'd fought, but it hadn't taken long to figure out the odds. He didn't stop until he couldn't go anymore, even still. And Boyd was still going even after that. He was one tough motherfucker, Boyd was. 

He didn't start feeling scared - really scared - until they threw him out in front of his house. He hadn't understood what this was, until that had happened. He stumbled into the house, hoping to God that Arlo wasn't home. He wasn't afraid of him anymore, under ordinary circumstances, but this was dangerous. 

The house was quiet, and he heard his mother call out to him from her room. He knew he could not let her see him like this, and he called out quickly to her, said he'd be in to say goodnight in a minute.

He threw on a new shirt and packed a bag as quick as he could, then started to descend the stairs as quietly as possible.

"Raylan!" His mother's voice was at the top of the steps. He froze.

Raylan spoke without turning around. "Hey, mama, I just need to run out to the truck for something. Be right back." 

"Raylan Givens, you turn around right this second. Don't you speak to me with your back turned, that ain't how I raised you."

Raylan turned around slowly, looking at the floor, and he heard her gasp. He lifted his eyes to hers, and saw that there were tears in them. 

"It's okay, mama. I just got in a fight. I know how you feel about that, and I'm real sorry."

"I know the difference between a fight and a beatin', Raylan. You think I don't? Why did..." Her voice gave out, and the look on her face made it clear she'd decided not to know, that she didn't want to know. "What are you gonna do?"

"I gotta leave. I can't stay here no more."

"All... all right, honey. Call Helen. She can help you. She said she would. No, just go see her. I'll call to tell her you're coming."

Raylan ran up the steps quickly and gave her a hug. 

 

Boyd was brought into his daddy's kitchen and shoved unceremoniously into a chair. Bo walked in from outside, his face a mask of carefully controlled anger. He held up a plastic bag and said, "Am I to assume you've fulfilled the other part of this agreement?"

One of the men stepped forward and nodded. He said, "I'd be real shocked if you ever see that little fucker around here again."

Bo nodded, handed him the bag and told him to deal with the distribution. He warned them that to speak of this, to anyone, would mean their deaths.

Boyd watched his daddy turn to look at him, and realized he felt nothing. He didn't think the man was going to beat him further - otherwise he wouldn't have had his boys do it. The only other things he had to threaten his son with, the only things that mattered, were his place in the family, the business, and his own very selectively offered approval. 

Boyd had cared about that, before tonight. He'd been afraid of his daddy finding out about Raylan. He hadn't wanted Bo to think he was a fag, and he knew, of course, that he'd never understand that it wasn't that, not really. That it was about Raylan, and that he’d never expected it. That he thought it might change everything. Shit, even if he could make Bo understand that, it would only make things worse.

"You got anything to say to me, boy?"

"No, daddy. I do not." Boyd's ribs ached, and all he wanted was to lie down. He wanted this to be over.

"How long, son? How long have you been... defiling yourself with that... boy?" He sneered, looked like he wanted to spit with disgust.

"Not too long." Boyd heard the sound of his own voice, and to him it sounded like he was already halfway gone. He was almost surprised to find that he did not actually give a shit what his father thought about this.

"You in love, Boyd? You kiss that little shit on the mouth?"

Boyd stared hard at him, wondering for a few seconds what would happen if he answered that question honestly. He thought, among other things, that it would prolong the conversation past the point he could take, so he said coldly, "Shit, no. The boy said he wanted to suck my dick, so I figured it didn't make no difference, long as I closed my eyes."

Bo stared at him for a long moment, like he was trying to decide how much bullshit he was willing to swallow.

"That ain't what Bowman tells me. He said he saw you and Givens makin' out like lovebirds behind the goddamn cabin one time."

Bowman. Of fucking course. Boyd knew better than to try to defend himself. Bo would ultimately accept whatever story he thought suited him better. He just held his father's gaze and tried not to let the pain from his ribs show in his face. 

"Givens is gonna be gone from around here. And if he ain't, if he's stupid enough to think he can stick around, he's gonna get another beating, worse next time, and directly from me. That'll be the last of the warnings, and the only reason he's getting that much is that you're just as much to blame as him."

"I'm sure I don't give a shit."

Bo nodded tersely, then laughed harshly and said, "You ought to save that shit for prison, son. Find yourself a girl while you're a free man." 

 

Raylan pulled up in front of Helen's house, and she opened the door as he carefully got out of the truck. His whole body hurt at every movement. 

"What the hell happened to you, Raylan? And don't try to pass off that same tired bullshit you gave your mother, neither. I don't believe it any more than she does." He only had to look at her face to be convinced of that. 

"What difference does it make, Helen? I'm leaving anyway."

"Because I'm about to give you a lot of money, boy. If you're leaving town for good, I think I got a right to know what's so goddamn urgent. You've had reasons to go since you graduated school, but you stuck around. Why now?"

He looked away, avoiding her gaze. "Helen..."

"Shit, Raylan, just tell me. I won't tell Frances nothing she don't need to hear.”

Raylan was exhausted, and he hurt so bad in all kinds of ways. And anyway, he realized that he sort of wanted her to know, wanted someone to know, because it had meant something to him. The thought of leaving behind what he’d only just discovered - about himself, about Boyd - made him ache all through his body. He needed more time. 

"Bo Crowder sent some men to beat the shit out of me and Boyd tonight."

Helen stared at him, frowning and worried. Slowly, she said, "Why would he do that?"

Raylan just looked at her, and eventually the frown softened into something like sympathy. "Oh, Raylan. You... Oh God, what is he gonna do to that boy?"

"If he wanted to kill us, we'd be dead already. Boyd will be fine. I'm sure Bo just wanted to scare him off of it."

She held the door open for him and he walked in. He headed for the kitchen and sat down, while she pulled a jar of shine and two glasses from the cabinet. She sat down, poured some for both of them, took a drink, and stared at him.

"Why would you take that kind of chance?" She almost yelled that, and her voice was desperate. She sounded just like his mama had when he was a kid and had lit a fire in the back yard with Arlo's Zippo. 

"Didn't feel much like I had a choice, Helen. It's like that."

"So you like boys, then?"

Raylan shrugged. In fact, he didn't really know how to answer that question. He said, "I like girls. And I like Boyd."

"Jesus Christ, Raylan. It had to be Boyd Crowder?"

"I know. I can't help it." Raylan put his face in his hands. 

"Okay. Well, you definitely can't stay here, you're right about that. Go and shower, get that blood off you. Leave your clothes in the spare room, I'll wash 'em for you."

"Thanks, Helen."

 

Boyd woke at the first light, threw on clothes and grabbed the bag he'd packed the night before. It held two changes of clothes and close to $2,000 that he'd saved between the mine and occasional work his daddy had thrown his way. 

He jumped in his truck, which someone had apparently driven down off the mountain the night before, and drove it to Raylan's house. His truck wasn't out front, and Boyd's stomach twisted. He couldn't believe Raylan had gone without at least... no. 

Boyd knew Raylan was supposed to work that morning, because he was too, but there was no way that was happening. The only other thing Boyd could think of was his aunt's house, so he headed out that way.

He'd been out there with Raylan one time, before they'd started messing around. Raylan hadn't wanted to go home, so she'd fed them and given them some blankets, and they'd camped in his truck.

He wasn't sure what reception he'd get from her today, what she might know, and what she might think of it. It couldn't be helped, so he put all that aside and just thought of what he was going to tell Raylan. 

 

Raylan woke up to the sound of Helen’s boots, heavy and fast on the stairs, just after dawn. He was sleeping on the couch and he saw her go past him to the door, carrying her shotgun. He then heard the sound of a truck door closing, and Helen cocking the gun. 

Raylan frowned when he heard her say, “What do you want here, Boyd Crowder?” 

He got up from the couch and walked over to her, came up behind her. He could see Boyd standing by his truck with his hands held at shoulder height, and he said sharply, “Helen, what the hell are you pointing a gun at him for? He ain’t a danger to you or me.”

“Shit Raylan,” she said, “he’s already proven himself to be a danger to you. You seem awfully goddamn eager to forget who he is, but you can bet he hasn’t. He’s a Crowder, Raylan. Whatever it is you think you’re feeling right now, don’t make him suddenly someone else.”

“Helen, put that gun down. I ain’t gonna let you shoot him. I’ll... I’ll stand in front of a gun for him.”

Helen snorted and shook her head at him. “That’d be damn brave of you, if you thought there was any chance of me shooting you.” She heaved a sigh, then lowered the shotgun. Then she called out into the yard, “All right, Boyd Crowder. I’m goin’ in, cook you boys some breakfast. Then you both got some decisions to make, I guess.”

Boyd nodded and thanked her, and when she’d gone back through the door, Raylan walked out to meet him. They embraced, carefully- both of them had bruises and broken ribs to contend with- but with great intensity. When they pulled apart, Boyd’s eyes were full of something that Raylan thought looked like guilt. They looked like his mother’s eyes when Arlo would hit him for trying to defend her. 

“I’m so sorry, Raylan,” Boyd said. 

Raylan wasn’t having any of that shit. “You didn’t do this. You ain’t him.”

“What are you gonna do?”

“Helen has some money saved. She said she’d give me enough to get set up somewhere. Maybe some more later. I don’t... Boyd...” Raylan didn’t know how to finish his sentence. He just looked at Boyd and hoped he’d be able to figure it out for both of them. 

Boyd looked at him, just stared into his face, then reached for him again. This time he moved in for a kiss, and Raylan’s eyes widened in alarm. “Helen could-”

Boyd ignored that and kissed him anyway, soft and sweet, and then said, “She already knows anyway, right? That’s what she meant when she said, ‘whatever you think you’re feeling.’ What _do_ you think you’re feeling, Raylan?”

“I don’t know.” Whatever it was, it felt too big to try to say it. “I don’t want to go yet, Boyd. I want... more. I want to stay with you. But I have to, I have to go. He’ll kill me, right?”

“He said he’d give you one more beating, then if you didn’t leave after that, yeah. You have to go, Raylan.”

This time, Raylan reached for him. He pulled him in by the waist and held him real close, not kissing him, not really hugging him, just holding Boyd against himself and resting his head on the boy's shoulder. 

"How'm I supposed to do this?" His voice was muffled by the fabric of Boyd's jacket. 

Boyd rubbed a hand on his forearm and said, "Well... I've been thinking. What if I go with you? We could... figure this shit out together, we could help each other. Split expenses. Like that," he ended, somewhat lamely, for Boyd. 

Raylan picked his head up and frowned at him. Then he smiled tentatively, not quite giving up the frown, and said, "You'd do that? You'd leave?"

"I could stay here, let my daddy hold this shit over my head for all eternity, let Bowman get drunk and tell everyone about it, even though he knows daddy will beat the hell out of him for it. Eat shit for God knows how long before I finally, _maybe_ , get to hold the reins one day. Get to inherit that legacy and try to hold it through fear and intimidation, all the time everyone knowing something about me. How does that sound to you, Raylan?"

"Shit, Boyd. I'm sor-"

"Shut up. Don't say it. Just tell me if you want me to come with you."

Raylan gripped him tighter and said, "I do. Yeah." 

Boyd kissed him again, gently, but longer this time. “Let’s go eat, then. And we’ll figure some shit out.”

 

 

They were on the road about two hours later, with a wad of cash and some extra provisions, donated by Helen. They decided to just take Boyd's truck, since Raylan's broke down just about every other day. They weren’t going too far for now, they were just going to get a motel room somewhere in Tennessee and then figure something out from there. 

Raylan could have hung around at Helen’s for a few days and made a plan, but things became more urgent and more complicated with Boyd along. Boyd had no doubt that Bo would check up on him at the mine, and when he didn’t show up for work, he’d be looking at the Givens’ first, and Helen’s next. 

Helen had told Raylan to fetch the camping gear out of the attic, and they could take it. While he was doing that, Helen had cornered Boyd in the kitchen.

“You need to tell me what this is all about. What are you looking to get out of this, Boyd Crowder?”

“You always have to say my name like that, Miss Helen? Like it’s half an insult?” Boyd wasn’t smiling as he said that. He didn’t much like it. 

“Until you show me otherwise.”

“I’m not sure what it is you need to see from me, in order to be convinced. I’m already cutting my family ties to run off with a boy - a Givens boy, at that. I am giving up my legacy, my father’s regard, my home, all for your nephew, all because I want to be with him.”

“Don’t neither of you have any idea what this is going to be like. Even if you were a girl and a boy, I’d say you were making the mistake of your goddamn lives.”

Boyd smiled and raised an eyebrow at her. He said, “Well, at least nobody’s getting knocked up.”

Helen pursed her lips at him, then sighed and said, “You’re gonna have to be patient with him. And both of you are gonna have to put up with a lot of shit from other people. Even outside of Harlan, even if you leave Kentucky, there are gonna be those who don’t like it, and some who think it’s their place to do something about it.”

Boyd didn’t know how to answer that. He knew she was right, and that he and Raylan really had no idea what they were getting into. He didn’t know what to tell her to reassure her, because he was sure of almost nothing himself. Even the truth, even telling her the only thing he knew to be true, would probably just make her laugh. But he said it anyway, because it was all he had. 

“I think I love him. No, I know I do. I do."

Helen did laugh, not a little bitterly, and said, "Of course you do. And of course he does, whether he said it or not. You think I don't remember being your age? 19 years old, you fall in love at the drop of a goddamn hat. 19 years old, someone makes you laugh and gets you off, that's love. That ain't gonna get you anywhere."

Boyd had just looked back at her, knowing she was probably right. But he was right too. He loved Raylan, and maybe Raylan felt the same, and this was the only choice that felt right to make. 

They pulled into the lot of a seedy-looking motel in a rundown suburb of Memphis, and Raylan went in to get them a room - a double, in case anyone was paying attention. 

Boyd parked in the spot outside their room and they brought their bags inside. When they had put them down, they looked at the room, then each other, and Raylan gave him an almost shy grin. He said, "So, which bed you want, Boyd?"

Boyd grinned back, with no shyness at all, and said, "Whichever one you're in, boy."

"Jesus, come here," Raylan replied, already reaching for him.

For the first time in the almost three months since they’d first done this, they took off all their clothes. They undressed each other slowly, looking at one another in a way they’d never had the chance to do before. When they were naked, breathing hard with arousal and something else, the terror and exhilaration of stepping off a cliff, Boyd pulled Raylan onto the bed. They lay side by side, pressed close, kissing lightly, and touching each other only on waists and arms. 

Everything felt wrong, suddenly. Raylan’s eyes were cast down, and away from Boyd’s face, and his hands were not right. Raylan had always touched Boyd with a sureness that belied his lack of experience. He had been nervous the first time, but even then, once they’d started, Raylan could have convinced him he’d been picking up men for years, had he so chosen. Boyd had seen him with girls too, and he'd always had that same quality - an ease of motion, an innate confidence. 

Now, in this strange room, in the late-afternoon light, he seemed unsure. Boyd felt it too, felt like he couldn't remember what to do. 

He pulled away slightly and put his hand to Raylan's cheek. He said, "Hey," meaning to follow that up with something else, but finding himself at a loss.

Raylan finally raised his eyes to meet Boyd's, and he looked afraid- that was no surprise. Everything that was happening just then was frightening, everything was uncertain. Still, he didn't look away, and Boyd saw what else was there. It was trust, as full and sincere as anything he'd ever seen. 

Raylan needed for Boyd to fix this, so he would. 

Boyd rolled on top of him, pushing his arms back by the wrists and staring into his surprised eyes. 

"Everything else, Raylan, that's the hard part. This is easy. I want you. You want me. Right?"

Raylan was panting, and a slow smile crept onto his face. "Yeah, Boyd. I want you. We can do whatever we feel like now, right?" He reached up and slid his hand along Boyd's ribs.

"Sure we can," Boyd replied, cocking an eyebrow. "Why, what do you feel like doing?"

"Well... I'm not sure," he said, and laughed. 

"Ain't no one gonna interrupt us, or beat us up, or anything."

"Shit." Raylan grinned real big, and Boyd answered with one of his own. Then Raylan grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him down for a kiss. 

They made out for awhile, and Raylan’s hands returned to form, and when he reached for Boyd, they were steady and certain again. They felt so good, like they did the very first time and every time since, and Boyd moaned and sighed into Raylan's neck as he came. 

Boyd slid down and took Raylan into his mouth, because he loved to, and he wanted to, but he thought sometime soon they might try something else, something they had never been able to consider in the back of his truck, in the hills of Harlan. 

They didn't move from each other's arms after, not for a long time. Always before, they'd taken a minute or two - always that, but never more - to lie together. Once the urgency of the moment had passed, it felt like pushing it, like tempting fate. But they'd always taken a moment, even from the very first time. 

Raylan dozed off with his head on Boyd's shoulder, and the entire arm eventually grew numb, but Boyd didn't move. He closed his eyes and let himself drift off. They slept for hours. It had been a long morning, and the night before had been even longer.

 

They spent two days in the motel before moving on. They'd argued a little bit over where they should go, but for Raylan that was mostly pro forma. He was fine with letting Boyd decide, as long as they were putting some distance between themselves and Kentucky. 

As it turned out, Boyd wanted to put quite a bit of distance in between. He said, “I want to see the big sky, Raylan,” and on the third day after leaving Harlan, they were headed for Montana.


	2. Bring Me Sunshine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys get on their way.

They took their time on the trip, not staying in any hotels but camping out along the way. Boyd was just fine with that, and Raylan seemed to like it too. They hiked, cooked out, fooled around under the stars, did a little fishing, and didn't talk much at all about how things might go once they got to Missoula, where they were tentatively planning to live.

On the fourth night of their trip, they stopped to camp in northern Wyoming. They’d gotten in towards the end of the day, paid for a campsite as far off the beaten path as possible, and pulled into their slot just as the sun was heading behind the trees. 

It was beautiful here, almost impossibly beautiful. It wasn’t home, but Boyd thought he could learn to feel at home here in the West. Everything still felt sort of new, and he loved that, even though he understood it was just an illusion. 

They got the tent set up, and Boyd caught Raylan watching him a few times. When they’d finished, he finally looked squarely at Raylan and said, “What is it? Why do you keep staring at me? Something wrong?”

Raylan’s face opened up with surprise, and he laughed. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Boyd put his hands out to his sides and said, “What, then?”

Raylan shook his head like he should know, then just walked up, kissed him, and pulled him by the wrist into the tent. When Raylan was sitting on top of him, pulling his shirt apart, Boyd said, “Oh. That.”

Raylan bent down to kiss him again, ran his fingers into Boyd’s hair and tugged on it a little. The honesty in his expression was almost too much to look at, and Boyd was almost afraid of it. “It’s always that, Boyd. I always want you. Always." 

Boyd stared back at him, let himself believe for a minute that this was all going to work out. In his head, he could still hear Helen, but his heart was all full up, and her voice was pretty faint just then. 

"Well, you can always have me," he replied, not caring whether or not that was true. It might not be, but it was how he felt, so that gave it a kind of truth.

Raylan's answering smile made him glad he'd said it, and even better was the way he kissed him while unzipping his fly, and kept kissing all down his body. 

He was deliberate in everything he was doing, and Boyd wondered if what he was communicating with his body was truly what was in his mind. It didn't matter much, Boyd figured. At that moment, it hardly mattered at all.

Raylan held him in his hand and looked up. "Boyd," he said, real soft, and his eyes shone in the darkening tent. It was all so beautiful, and Boyd's heart pounded with it, and he knew he'd never felt such desire in his life. 

"Yes, Raylan?" It was all he could manage to whisper this in response, and he never once took his eyes from the boy's face. 

Raylan smiled as soft as his words, and said, "Nothin'. Just... this, I guess. It's..." He stopped talking, but it was okay. Boyd understood every bit of it, had no doubts about this part of things. He had meant what he'd told Raylan that first day in the motel. This was the easy part, they were together in it. Neither of them really needed to say it.

Boyd brushed his fingers lightly through Raylan's hair and smiled back at him. "I know, Raylan. You don't have to say nothin' at all. Show me."

Raylan's smile grew into a wide grin, and when he spoke Boyd could hear the heat behind his words. "I could show you somethin', son."

"Could you?" he panted. Boyd wanted very badly to know, right about then. 

Raylan got up suddenly and went out of the tent, leaving Boyd feeling bereft and horny. He divested himself of the rest of his clothing while Raylan was gone, and he came back in less than a minute with something in his hand. 

Raylan glanced at Boyd and gave him a small smile. "I was gonna wait. Until we got there. But... I don't want to wait anymore. I want it now. I want to have you now. Okay?"

"Jesus, Raylan. Okay. You know what to do?"

"Yeah. Don't worry."

Boyd had no idea how he might know, but he somehow believed him. He sounded confident. 

Raylan came up beside him and kissed him, long and deep, stroked him slowly for awhile, and finally slid his hand down behind. He reached for the bottle he'd brought in, poured a generous amount into his hand, and got started. 

He didn't leave off kissing at any time, and Boyd was glad for that, because he couldn't say that he enjoyed much of it at first. He felt nervous and awkward, not to mention uncomfortable, but Raylan's mouth was reassuring. 

At one point, Raylan pulled back a little and said, "We can stop if you want."

"Do you want to keep going?"

"Yeah, but..."

Boyd kissed him hard, and Raylan pushed more of his hand inside of Boyd, his long fingers reaching up, searching, until Boyd stiffened and gasped against his lips. 

Raylan grinned. "Was that it?" 

"Fuck. I guess so."

"Touch yourself while I'm doing it." Raylan's voice had been calm and concerned, but suddenly he sounded on the very edge of his control. Boyd could feel his cock against his thigh, rubbing in small motions along with the movement of his hand. 

Boyd reached for himself and closed his eyes. Raylan kept kissing him, wet and distracted, and they breathed hard into each other's mouths. 

"Raylan," Boyd said finally, "I think you can-"

"Uh... not this time," he said with a breathless laugh. 

Boyd laughed in response, and kissed him again, pumping himself faster and pushing  
back into Raylan's hand, no feeling longer self-conscious, uncomfortable, or anything else other than pleasure. 

Raylan pulled back to stare as Boyd came onto his own stomach, clenching around Raylan's fingers as the boy's face grew desperate.

As soon as Raylan pulled his fingers free, Boyd rolled him over onto his back and knelt over him, swallowing him down and pulling his hips up roughly. He started coming almost right away, his right foot rubbing up hard against Boyd's side, left hand tangled in his hair. He finished with a shout that gave Boyd a stab of joy in his chest that felt almost like pain, it was so sharp. 

Boyd pulled himself slowly back up to lie next to Raylan, feeling drained, empty of words and thoughts and energy. They lay like that for some time, until finally a thought occurred to him.

"Raylan, how did you learn that? I had some idea, I guess, but I don't think I would have felt so sure."

Raylan grinned and said, "Oh, you should see some of the magazines Arlo keeps. Sometimes they have some informative shit in them. He hides 'em from my mother, of course, but I know where to find them. She probably does too, come to think of it, but she wisely keeps it to herself," he finished, somewhat grimly. 

"Your daddy keeps gay porno rags in the house?" Boyd was caught between horror and fascination.

Raylan laughed sharply and said, "Everyone has an asshole, Boyd. Even girls. I did find this one, though, one time. It was a girl with a strap-on dildo, fucking a guy in the ass."

"Huh. Now, what do you suppose the girl is getting out of that?"

"I'm not sure, but I could probably come up with a couple guesses."

"Let's get cleaned up," Boyd said, rousing himself reluctantly. "And I'm hungry. Help me start a fire, huh?"

The next morning, they would cross into Montana, and hopefully make it to the western part of the state by the evening. The day after that, they'd find an apartment. 

As beautiful as their little camping trip had been, it made Boyd slightly uneasy. They'd been just letting things happen, living one day to the next, and he thought Raylan could probably go on like that forever. Boyd couldn’t, though. He was a planner, and hated not having a plan.


	3. I'll Stay Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They get settled into their new life, but Raylan is still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Missoula reeked of the paper mill when they rolled into town, but otherwise it seemed like a good enough place to be. Neither of them wanted to live right in town, and neither of them discussed precisely why not. They found a place in a slightly rundown apartment complex on the outskirts of town, and Raylan thought it couldn’t be more perfect. There was a bar with pool tables just down the road that served cheap food, and a view of the mountains from their kitchen window. 

There were a couple of giggly, college girl hippies living next door, and the smell of weed greeted him every time he walked past their open window. 

The day they moved in, the girls, Jenny and Marisa, invited them over, and he and Boyd spent the evening getting high and flirting with them. Then they went back next door and fucked for a long time. The night in the tent had been unbelievably exciting for Raylan, and he didn’t regret the way it had ended up, but he wanted to make it work this time. He did, although the look on Boyd’s face once he got it in almost finished him as soon as he got started. 

They both spent the week looking for work. Boyd found a part-time job at a lumberyard, and Raylan got one as a barback at a dive downtown. 

They'd arrived in late October, and the town was full of students and other young people. Raylan's hours picked up as business did. He started to think about what he was going to do. 

At random moments, he felt an overwhelming sense of happiness. Coming home after work, reeking of beer and cigarette smoke, and finding Boyd in bed with the light on, book on his chest, blinking himself awake to greet Raylan with a sleepy smile and open arms, he'd get that feeling. 

Waking up in the morning to make coffee, and looking out his kitchen window at the evergreens, with a light dusting of early snow, it would hit him. 

Even an unexpected visit, one evening, from their neighbors, with a Scrabble board and two six-packs of beer, made him feel that way. 

The girls didn't flirt so much anymore, having been clued in to the nature of the relationship one night, weeks before. The girls had been sitting on the terrace, smoking and chatting, when Raylan and Boyd had stumbled back from the bar down the street. 

They'd been pretty drunk, laughing and bumping into each other, and Raylan leaned in to kiss Boyd as he tried to unlock the door. They'd heard giggling, and found themselves being stared at with goofy, stoned grins. 

Raylan had felt his stomach turn over, the fear of discovery present even though, rationally, he knew these girls wouldn't care. 

One of them said, intentionally loud, "How did I not figure that out?" Her friend replied, "Seriously. They're too fucking cute for words."

Boyd had laughed and opened the door, pulling Raylan into the apartment. Raylan had stuck his head back out the door, nodded, and said, "Ladies." If he'd been wearing a hat, he would have tipped it at them. He'd heard them shriek with laughter as he closed the door. 

That had made him happy too. So there were these moments, but most of the time he felt like he was waiting for something, and not anything good. He was waiting for the other shoe to drop, when it came down to it. Waiting to wake up from whatever this dream was, waiting for real life to start, because real life wasn't like this. It wasn't this easy, or this good.

Raylan was wandering around town one day in December, thinking about maybe finding something for Boyd, for Christmas. He stopped into a coffee shop and sat at the counter, sipping his hot drink and watching the snow fall lightly on the street and sidewalks. 

The thought came to him out of the blue, and he couldn't imagine why it hadn't occurred to him before. He should go to school. He was sure Helen would help with tuition, and he could get loans. 

He left the coffee house in a good mood, and went to the used book store and bought Boyd a leather bound copy of The Sound and the Fury, then to the vintage clothing store, where he found a long wool scarf in green and copper that he thought would look good on him. Plus, it was getting cold and he'd heard Missoula got a ton of snow in January. 

He had been planning to tell Boyd as soon as he got home from work, but something stopped him. Somehow he couldn't find the words. Even months later, long after he'd applied, and spoken to Helen about financial help, he still hadn't found a way to speak to Boyd about it. 

If he'd been asked, he couldn't have said why he'd kept it a secret. 

Raylan came back from work one night, very cold due to being fooled into leaving his jacket at home by the day's warm sunshine. The night had not felt like spring at all, and the walk home had been miserable. He looked forward to warming himself next to Boyd, who was always like a furnace when he'd been asleep beneath the covers for a few hours. 

He was surprised to find Boyd on the sofa, waiting up. Raylan saw the acceptance packet on the coffee table, and his stomach dropped. 

"Hey, Raylan. Got some mail," he said, mildly, but with an intense gaze.

"Boyd... I meant to tell you..." Raylan ran a hand over his face, trying to figure out what to say.

"Raylan... I'm trying to understand why you wouldn't have mentioned this to me. Did you think I wouldn't like it? Did you think I'd try to talk you out of it? I really don't get it."

"No... I don't know. I was planning to tell you, but then I just... didn't. I don't know why, Boyd. Honestly. I'm sorry." Raylan sat down next to Boyd and put his face in his hands. 

"I'm glad you applied. I'm glad you got in. I would have been happy for you all along if you'd just told me. Now... I guess I feel worried, Raylan. It makes me wonder if you did this so you could have some kind of escape plan. You don't need that, you know. You want me to go, I'll go."

"No! God, no, it's nothing like that. I think I just... I know you're smarter than me. Maybe I felt like you should be the one doing that, not  
me. I thought maybe you'd think so too, if I mentioned it. That it was stupid for me to... yeah, that sounds ridiculous when I say it out loud."

"I was thinking about going too. I was gonna wait until next year. But it's fine. We can both go to school, it'll be good." He put his hand on Raylan's shoulder and leaned over to try to make eye contact. 

Raylan looked up at him, finally, and said, "I'm an asshole."

Boyd snorted and replied, "That ain't news. I got over that a long time ago. Come on, let's go to bed, asshole."

Raylan got up and followed him into the bedroom. When they'd gotten undressed and climbed into bed, he slid in as close to Boyd as he could get. He said, "I know I should always trust you. You never gave me a reason not to. It ain't you I don't trust, it's just how things are. I get nervous about what's going to happen."

Boyd pulled him in tight and kissed him on the forehead. "I know. That's why I ain't making you sleep on the couch tonight. Just don't do it again."


	4. Always on my Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan is a little confused.

Boyd's hours at the lumberyard had increased over the summer, and now in mid-September he was getting close to full time work. Raylan had started school, and was still working a few nights a week at the bar, so they were seeing far less of each other than they had been. 

They'd been together now for over a year, counting the time they'd spent sneaking around in Harlan. That seemed like a different life by now, and Boyd could hardly imagine a time when he didn't wake up to find Raylan in bed next to him every morning. 

He hadn't yet regretted his decision to leave with Raylan, not even once. They were getting ready to head into their second Montana winter, and he found himself looking forward to it. If you were going to have snow, might as well not fuck around with it. 

Boyd got in the shower as soon as he got home. Raylan would be back soon, and he wanted to eat and fool around before the boy had to head back out to work. They'd been missing each other the past couple days, barely having time to say hi as they passed each other in the living room. 

With the water running, he didn't hear any doors opening, so he was briefly surprised by the shower door sliding back, and Raylan stepping in behind him.

Raylan didn't say anything as he took the soap from his hand and rubbed up some lather, then ran his hands over Boyd's shoulders and chest. He pushed him up against the slippery tiles and pressed their bodies together, sliding his hands down Boyd's sides, to his hips. 

Raylan reached between them and took Boyd in his hand, stroking him slowly, and still not speaking or even kissing him. Boyd did nothing, because he guessed that was what Raylan wanted, and it was fucking hot. He just leaned his head back on the wall and let Raylan touch him. 

Boyd could feel the hard length of Raylan's dick up against his hip, but he didn't reach for him. He felt himself getting closer, and he very much wanted to kiss Raylan's mouth. He was staring at it, and he wanted it.

Raylan was just a beautiful thing to look at, all around, and his eyes were his best feature, but Boyd loved his mouth the most. He loved the slight curve and overbite of his upper lip, and the soft bottom one, and the way they would pull back into these little toothy grins when he was amused.

Raylan might have noticed the staring, because he finally met Boyd's eyes and raised a hand to his cheek. "You want something?" he asked, raising his eyebrows a tiny bit.

Boyd nodded, kept his face serious, and Raylan smiled at him. Then he leaned in and gave Boyd a long, slow kiss, holding his face in one hand while he pumped Boyd's cock with the other. 

"Oh, fuck, Raylan," Boyd whispered, "Fuck, oh, I'm coming." Raylan drew in a breath and slid himself up against Boyd's hip, reaching an arm around his shoulders to hold him still. Boyd grabbed his hips to help him, and Raylan groaned, his come smearing between them. 

"That was a nice surprise," Boyd said, grinning as they separated and began rinsing off. 

"Yeah, well I got another one for you. I switched with Rob and got the night off. So you can just consider this a warm up." 

Boyd was watching him, casually washing himself off, and was struck by the strangeness of his life. Usually it felt so normal, mundane almost, all of the things he did, by himself and with Raylan. He went to work, he bought groceries, he ate, he talked to people, and he came home and spent time with the person he loved. Sometimes they fucked, or messed around, and sometimes they just watched tv, or he read while Raylan studied, and it mostly didn’t seem weird at all. After nearly a year of living together, he didn’t think about it very often, but occasionally this feeling of unreality would wash over him. 

When he and Raylan had started up together, all he’d thought was that he couldn’t go another day without touching him. He’d waited as long as he did, only out of fear. Even after he’d been almost sure of Raylan, almost certain that he returned Boyd’s feelings, he’d waited, until he could practically feel the frustration emanating from him. 

They’d been working together, mostly on the same shifts so they’d often give each other a ride in, and drinking together a lot. The other miners had even begun to make jokes about it, rough ones, but basically good-natured and not with any real accusations behind them. Boyd had seen the nervousness in Raylan’s face when they did that, and that was when he first knew, or thought he might know, anyway. 

The night they spent together in Helen’s yard, lying in sleeping bags next to each other in Boyd’s truck, had finally tipped the scales. Raylan had told him some things that night, things about Arlo and his mother that he’d never said before, about his fears of what his life could turn out to be, and who he could turn out to be, if he stayed in Harlan forever. 

Boyd had touched him that night, only to comfort. He’d laid a hand on his shoulder, and had left it there until they were both asleep. Raylan hadn’t acknowledged it, but he hadn’t moved away or brushed it off, and Boyd had been sure he’d heard his breath change, just a little. That little change, that hitch, or whatever it had been, stayed with Boyd all the next day. He kept hearing it at random times during their shift, kept thinking about what it meant. 

“Boyd?” Raylan’s voice startled him, and he looked up with a smile. “Where’d you go?”

“Oh,” Boyd said, laughing, “I was just thinking about the first time you kissed me.” Boyd turned off the water and they got out. Raylan tossed a towel to him, and they started drying off. 

Raylan laughed. “Is that how you think of it? You make it sound like I was the brave one. You told me you couldn’t take it anymore and pulled me down on top of you. What else could I have done?” 

“What if you hadn’t wanted it? What would you have done then?” Even now, the thought gave him butterflies. It could have been the most dangerous thing he’d ever done. 

Raylan was shaking his head. “Impossible to imagine.”

Boyd followed Raylan out of the bathroom and down the hall to their room. “Well, okay, what if Dickie Bennett had done that?”

“Jesus, shut up. Fucking gross. I would have punched him in his fucking face. But not you. Even if I didn’t want you, I wouldn’t have cared, really. You were still my best friend.” Raylan pulled on some pants and flopped onto the bed. 

“You wouldn’t have been freaked out? Disgusted?”

“Because you’re a guy, you mean?” He shrugged. “Hard to say. You’re the only one I ever liked that way. I didn’t even know I could. So I don’t really have any perspective on it.”

“What? Are you serious?” That seemed crazy to him. He laid down on the bed next to him and propped himself up on an elbow, staring at Raylan. 

Boyd couldn’t believe he didn’t know this, that they’d never talked about this at all. He felt like that was probably weird, that most people would have by now, but he didn’t really know. He was just as new to this as Raylan, but at least he’d already known he liked boys (and girls) for a long time. 

He’d never really thought he’d want to be with a boy like this, though. It had seemed like too much of a hassle, not worth it, and he always figured he’d settle down with a woman eventually. That was before Raylan had come along to change everything - he’d always thought of it that way, anyway, but only now was he realizing how much more he’d changed things for Raylan. 

“You could quit looking at me like I’m some kind of freak, Boyd,” he said, in a still-mild voice that sounded like he could start to sound pissed off without much more prompting. “You like girls too, don’t you? Unless you were just saying that or something. I mean, I don’t care either way.”

“Well, yeah, Raylan. I do. But I always liked both.”

“Look, maybe I just repressed it or something because it scared the shit out of me. It doesn’t feel that way, but it also doesn’t sound impossible. You’re still the only one, though. I don’t look at other guys.” He looked at Boyd and grinned. “‘Course, why would I?” he said, and rolled onto his side, reaching for Boyd. “I got you.”

Boyd kissed him on his shoulder and frowned. He supposed this information should make him feel special, but he actually found it a little bit intimidating. He didn’t want to make Raylan feel bad about it, though. He didn’t seem to have a problem with it, and really, all things considered, he’d rolled with it pretty damn easily. 

“Okay, Raylan. You let me know if you ever see anyone who catches your eye, though. Shit, maybe we should start going to swim meets or something,” he said, laughing awkwardly. 

“This bothers you, doesn’t it? I knew I shouldn’t have told you that. Just because you were the first one, doesn’t make it not real or something. Doesn’t mean I’m gonna suddenly come to my senses or whatever stupid shit is going through your mind about it.” 

“I know.” Boyd leaned his forehead into Raylan’s collarbone. Raylan wasn’t normally so perceptive, and Boyd realized he must have given this a lot of thought over the past year. He’d been working on figuring all of this out, all on his own. Of course he had, Boyd thought. 

“Look at me, Boyd. It doesn’t matter what I _am_ , or how I _identify_ , or any of that bullshit. It’s meaningless to me. I’m with _you._ That’s how it is. That’s all I care about.” 

Boyd had no answer for that, and no defenses against it either. He met Raylan’s eyes and smiled at him. He thought about telling him that he loved him - it was really way past due, and he’d been feeling it for so long. What Raylan had just said to him was basically that, even though he hadn’t used the words. Boyd had no idea what was holding either of them back. Maybe it didn’t matter. In the end, he just kissed him a bunch of times, and might have considered doing more than that, but before he got around to it, there was a knock at the door. 

Boyd threw on a shirt and ran out to answer it, and Raylan trailed out behind him shortly after. He opened the door to find their neighbor, Marisa, who wanted to know if they felt like coming over and ordering pizza later. Jenny had moved back east over the summer, and Marisa had finally found a new roommate a few weeks back, a skinny, effeminate kid named Jacob who was a freshman at the university. They hadn’t really spoken to him much, other than to say hi, though Raylan had mentioned that he was in one of his classes.

Boyd glanced back at Raylan, who shrugged and said, “Sure, why not.”

For the next hour or so, Raylan did some homework, and Boyd took a nap. He hadn't meant to, but he'd had a long day, and when he laid down on the couch to read, he fell asleep in less than a minute. 

He woke up to Raylan shaking him by the shoulder and saying, "Hey, get up. We gotta go next door."

"Do we have to?" Boyd really just wanted to go back to sleep for awhile, then have Raylan wake him up for fucking later on. 

"We said. Come on. I'm not going by myself."

Boyd sat up and rubbed his face. "Okay, all right. Give me a minute."

He got up and went to take a piss, then they walked over to the next apartment. It still smelled like pot and incense, but the living room was far less littered with half-finished beading projects and ashtrays full of American Spirit butts. 

Some kind of jangly guitar pop music was playing that set Boyd's nerves on edge. When Jenny had lived here they had usually played the Grateful Dead, which was at least soothing, if generally boring as hell. 

Marisa and Jacob had the Trivial Pursuit board out, and Boyd sighed. This was not his first choice of activities for a rare night off with Raylan. As soon as the game was finished, they were out of there. 

Marisa loaded up her bong and handed it around, but Boyd passed and Raylan only took one hit, out of what might have been politeness. Neither of them had ever been much into it, despite its prevalence in Harlan, and anyway, Boyd wanted to hurry up and win at Trivial Pursuit.

They ordered pizza, and the game dragged, as usual, and there were entire conversations between turns. At one point, Boyd got up to get a beer, and when he came back, Jacob was talking to Raylan in an exceedingly earnest voice, about the Gay-Straight Alliance group he was in. It was a brand new chapter, and he seemed to be trying to talk Raylan into getting involved. 

"It's really, really important for us to be visible on campus. You guys should really come to some of our events."

Boyd was having a hard time thinking of something he'd less like to do. He sat down and asked, "So! Whose turn is it now? Marisa? Come on, girl, let's get this game moving."

Jacob shook his head and said, "Seriously, do you think anything is going to improve if people don't stand up for themselves and each other?"

Raylan finished his beer and said, "It's not my thing. I'm not what you'd call a joiner."

"People just assume you're straight, you know. Doesn't that bother you?"

"Why should it? It's just as true as anything else."

"What the hell does that mean? You're living with a man."

"I'm with Boyd because of who he is, not because he's a man."

Boyd could see the tiny frown creasing between his flashing eyes, and he could only imagine how irritated he was at having to have this conversation twice in one night. He wanted to take him home and make it up to him. 

"Oh, okay, sure. You're 'bisexual.' I've heard that one before."

Boyd's eyes widened, and he knew they should probably get the fuck out of there right away. He didn't particularly care what the kid thought about either of them, but he could see how pissed off Raylan was.

"I think it's time to go," he said, staring at Raylan. When he didn't react, Boyd kicked him lightly on the ankle and said, "Hey. Come on."

Raylan finally said, "Yeah, okay." He got up and said good night to Marisa and walked out. Boyd said good night to both of them, then followed him out. 

When they got back to their place, Raylan went straight into the bathroom and brushed his teeth. Boyd waited for him to finish before going in, since he seemed to need some space. When he got into the bedroom, he found Raylan lying on the bed in his boxers, staring at the ceiling. 

Boyd laid down next to him, but didn't say anything. Eventually, Raylan rolled over and put his head in the crook of his arm. "I may have overreacted."

"Nah," Boyd said, reaching up and running his fingers through Raylan's hair. "He was being a dick. And anyway, it gave us an excuse to leave." 

"Do you think I should give a shit how people see me? I figured we both got lucky that people don't notice anything different about us. Shit, it took me a long time to even notice it myself. But it must be a fucking nightmare to grow up and not be able to hide it. I bet he was like that as a kid."

"Maybe. Lucky for him, he didn't come up in Harlan. And no, Raylan, I don't think you should care. What are you gonna do, anyway, wear a fucking badge? You are who you are. Me too."

Raylan still seemed agitated, and like his mind was somewhere else, but they fucked anyway. Later on, Boyd would wish they'd just kept talking instead. He thought it might have made a difference in what was to come. 

Raylan was distant for the next few days, and Boyd didn't really know what to do about it. He knew that pressing him on it would just lead to a fight, and he didn't feel like fighting. Raylan preferred to work shit out on his own, so why not let him? They could talk about it when he was ready, if he ever was. 

Boyd got off an hour early on a Thursday, and he had the following day off, so he was going to see if Raylan wanted to skip Friday's classes and go camping at Glacier for the weekend, before it got too cold. 

He had just come up the stairs and turned the corner, when the door to his apartment opened. A tall, curvy girl with blonde hair almost down to her ass exited and walked toward him, wearing a severely annoyed expression on her pretty face. 

Boyd nodded at her as she passed him, but she barely seemed to see him. He felt sick, and seriously considered taking a walk and coming back later, just pretending it hadn't happened. Then he snapped out of that shit, and started to feel angry. 

He stalked over to the door and opened it. He heard the shower running and sat down on the sofa to wait. Raylan took a long time in there, and when he finally came out, he went right into the bedroom. Boyd got up and followed him, standing in the doorway while Raylan pulled on a pair of boxers, then finally noticed him.

"Boyd. You're home early." He walked towards Boyd, then hesitated. "What's wrong?"

"Really? That's how you're playing this?"

Raylan stopped in his tracks and stared at Boyd. He swallowed visibly, then opened his mouth as if to speak, but no words came. He sat down on the bed, shakily, like he'd lost the strength in his legs. 

Boyd felt angrier than he had in a very long time, and far angrier than he ever had with Raylan. "What the _fuck_ , Raylan?" He wasn't shouting, not quite, but he knew he sounded furious, almost out of control. 

Raylan flinched, and said, "It didn't mean anything."

"You think I don't know that? What did you think, anyway? That I'm so jealous and insecure that I'd begrudge you a little pussy? All you had to do was fucking ask me, Raylan! You wanted it so bad, why didn't you say something? Maybe I might want that sometime too, you ever think of that?" 

He was shouting now, madder than before he'd spoken, and then he looked at Raylan. He looked very young, scared and heartbroken. It hardly made sense, since he was the one who'd cheated, who'd done the injury, but it somehow broke Boyd's anger at once.

Raylan met his eyes and said, "That's not it. It wasn't... I didn't want it so bad. I didn't really want it at all. That's why I did it. I wondered if that kid Jacob might be right about me. That maybe I just..." He trailed off and made a helpless gesture with his hands.

Boyd sat down heavily on the bed, scowling. "So how was it?"

"It was shit. All I could think about was you. And she wouldn't even blow me."

"Girls."

Raylan put his hand on Boyd's leg, and Boyd quickly picked it up and moved it back into Raylan's lap. "I'm so mad at you, Raylan."

"You should be."

"Yeah, I fucking know I should be! You don't gotta tell me."

Raylan didn't say anything for a few minutes, and when he did, it was very quietly. "You want to hit me?"

Boyd stared at him in disbelief. "Do I want to _hit_ you? You would ask me that? What the hell do you think I am, Raylan?"

Raylan looked down and shifted away slightly, but didn't answer.

"I don't want to hit you. I never want to hit you, or hurt you at all if I can help it. Don't you know that?"

"I'd rather you hit me, I'd rather you beat the shit out of me, than leave."

Boyd didn't even know how to answer. He was shocked that Raylan even thought for a second that he was considering that. 

"Leave you. You think I could do that? Like I got something better waiting for me somewhere else? Like you don't mean fucking everything to me? Like I don't love you more than I can even say?"

Raylan was looking at him again, finally. "Boyd," he said, his voice breaking. Raylan clasped one of his wrists and pulled it towards himself. Boyd resisted, tried to get free, but Raylan held tight. He held it to his chest, just over his heart.

"Don't, Raylan. I said I'm still mad."

"Please. I want you so much. Boyd, please."

"Didn't you just have sex?" Boyd asked irritably.

Raylan shook his head. "That wasn't enough. That wasn't nothing. It wasn't you. I need _you._ "

Raylan reached for his other hand and brought it to his side. Boyd didn't pull away this time, but he didn't do anything else, either. 

"Put your hands on me. Come on, Boyd." Raylan put his forehead on his shoulder.

"Raylan-"

Raylan turned his face into Boyd's neck and spoke with his lips against his skin. "You love me. You said that."

"Of course I do. I don't know why I never said before, or why I'm saying it now, but I have for so long. Since before we came here. Before we even touched each other the first time. Maybe as far back as 10th grade, when I saw you kissing Ginny Best behind the cafeteria, when I went out there for a smoke. You probably don’t even remember that, but you looked up and grinned at me, and I thought you were the prettiest thing I’d ever seen in my goddamn life. Yeah, I love you, you asshole. I always will. I can’t help myself."

"I know. I know. Show me."

"You want me to..."

 _"Show me."_ Raylan put a hand to his cheek and looked into his eyes. "Please."

Boyd had no more fight left in him. He couldn't even think of why he should fight anymore. He was hurting, and his boy was hurting, and all he had to do for both of them to feel better was to let this go, give Raylan what he needed. 

He dragged Raylan's hand from his cheek and held it. He finally kissed him then, starting off soft, but when he tasted wet salt on his lips, he pushed him back onto the bed, kissing him almost hard enough to bruise. 

“Don’t you _ever_ do that again. You hurt me, Raylan, do you understand that?”

“Yes. I’m so sorry,” he replied, and his arms felt like steel straps wrapped around Boyd, like he was never planning to release him. 

“If you want me to show you something, you gotta let me go. I ain’t going anywhere, Raylan. Why would I? I’m so happy here. I’m so happy with you. We can do whatever we want, remember? But first, I gotta get these clothes off, okay?”

Raylan loosened his hold, and Boyd kissed him again. He sat up and pulled his boots and socks off, then started unbuttoning his shirt. Raylan sat up and pulled it from his shoulders, kissing his back and making him shiver. He stood up and took off his jeans and shorts, then climbed onto Raylan and held his arms down. 

He leaned forward and said quietly, “I know you like to take charge, Raylan. I like that too, but you said you wanted me to show you, and I want to. You gonna let me do that?”

Raylan nodded, but didn’t say a word. He kept his eyes on Boyd the whole time. Boyd moved down and pulled off Raylan's shorts. Whatever he’d done before Boyd had come home didn’t seem to be affecting him. He was rock hard, and moaned as Boyd brushed his hand over his cock. 

Boyd kept his eyes on Raylan’s face as he started to put his fingers into him. They had never done it this way; Raylan hadn’t expressed any interest in it before, and Boyd was happy enough with the way things were. Raylan had gotten very good at it over the past year. He knew this was what Raylan wanted now, though, and he wanted to do it right. He thought about the first time they’d tried it, in that tent, just before they got into town. Raylan hadn’t quite managed it, and Boyd could now understand why. There was something ridiculously hot about this, something so visceral, so carnal, but sweet at the same time. It was the trust, that was what made it beautiful. Neither of them was easily inclined to offer that to anyone else, because of the ways they’d been brought up.

Raylan was watching him back, and reached up to stroke his hair. Boyd smiled down at him and thrust his hand further into Raylan, kept going until he heard him grunt and curse. He took his time, despite how turned on he was. There was no reason to rush it. They had all the time in the world. He could tell Raylan was growing impatient, especially after Boyd leaned down and slid his mouth over his dick a few times, but all he did was buck up his hips and groan out Boyd’s name. Still, after that, Boyd thought it might be a good idea to get things started. 

Boyd knelt up and pushed back Raylan’s knees. He knew what to do, but he wasn’t entirely prepared for the way it felt. He slid in a little, and heard Raylan gasp. He had his eyes screwed shut now, and Boyd frowned down at him with concern. “Did I hurt you? Should I do more first?”

“No,” Raylan gasped out. “Keep going.”

Boyd pushed in further, slowly, and then they were doing it, moving together, and Raylan eventually opened his eyes again, and started stroking himself. He looked so perfect like that, flushed and messed up, hard and lean and beautiful, that Boyd wished he could take a picture. He suddenly imagined them getting older together, imagined a day when Raylan wouldn’t look like that anymore. He didn’t want to forget. He didn’t think he would.

When he felt himself getting close, he bent down, and Raylan reached up with his free hand to pull his head down, press their foreheads together. Raylan started speaking in a low voice, punctuating each sentence with a brief kiss. 

“I love you so much,” he said, “I need you. It’s _always_ you that I want. Always.” 

Boyd had been barely holding on, but Raylan’s words put an end to that. He said, “I need to come now, Raylan. Can’t wait no more.”

“Oh God. Do it. Fuck me hard.” Raylan’s mouth was open and panting, lips wet and swollen. Boyd fucked him as hard as he could manage, but only for a short time, because Raylan was coming, crying out, and Boyd just lost it. He couldn’t remember coming so hard in his whole life, couldn’t recall such intensity, ever. 

As soon as he pulled out, Raylan reached for him, pulling him in close again, but at least not squeezing him as tightly as he had before. 

“Was that what you wanted, Raylan?” Boyd asked, even though he knew the answer. 

Raylan just nodded against his shoulder and kept holding on. 

“So... you didn’t tell me. What was the outcome of your little experiment? Are you gay now, or what?” Boyd struggled to keep from grinning while he waited to hear what Raylan was going to say.

“Ah... no. I guess not. We can keep working on it, though,” he replied, his eyebrows twitching. Boyd laughed and pushed him back. 

“You want to go camping this weekend? I got tomorrow off, we could drive to Glacier, stay ‘til Sunday morning. Weather’s supposed to be real nice.”

“What, I’m gonna say no to anything you ask right now?”

The last thing Boyd wanted was for him to do anything out guilt. He shook his head and started saying, “Raylan -”

“I’m kidding,” Raylan interrupted. “Of course I want to go camping with you. I love camping. I love you.”

“You gonna say that all the time, now?”

“Yeah, I think I will. Feels so good.”

They went out to dinner after that, and when they got home, they packed up the truck so they could leave early the next morning.


	5. Hello Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Raylan comes home to find Boyd gone.

Raylan felt like the weekend at Glacier went by way too quickly. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the domestic arrangement he and Boyd had, but to him, this felt most like who they were to each other. All of his favorite memories of him were outdoors; it was where he first came to know Boyd, where they’d fallen in love. Boyd was the hills, he was everything about Kentucky that Raylan didn’t hate. 

When he’d finally admitted to himself what he wanted, he’d been very much afraid of it, but the more time they spent together, looking up at the treetops and the stars, the less strange it felt. Down in the mine, his desire had felt almost suffocating, like it was part of the mountain, closing him in and keeping him in one place like he had no choices to make. On the surface, in the air, he felt free to decide for himself. When he still wanted to stay close to Boyd, when he still wanted to touch him and look at him, he knew.

When Boyd had finally gotten his nerve up - or lost the last of his patience, maybe - they’d been in the woods, by a small creek. The smell of that place, the sounds, and the feel of the night air on him, it had been all about wanting, anticipation. Raylan had waited, feeling it crackle between them. If Boyd hadn’t made a move, Raylan would have. 

But Boyd had done it, he’d taken Raylan by the arm and pulled him forward, pulled him down onto himself, had whispered to him about how it was time, that he couldn’t wait, that he knew Raylan wanted this too. Raylan had laughed at him when he said that, had said he had a knack for stating the obvious, and when he’d kissed him, it had felt like water in the desert. 

On Sunday afternoon, they rolled back into town, tired and happy. Raylan knew how lucky he’d gotten, how much worse things could have gone, if Boyd wasn’t the kind of man that he was. Even if he hadn’t gotten caught, he was sure he would have fucked things up on his own, out of guilt and disgust with himself.

Boyd had to go in early on Monday, and Raylan had a late class, so he was just planning to stay on campus and head to work from there. Boyd bent down to kiss him goodbye, and said, “Wake me up when you get in tonight.”

He wouldn’t forget those words. 

It was a long night at work. There had been a fight at one point in the evening, so there was even more of a mess to clean up than usual, after the last of the drunk stragglers had wandered out, or been pushed out. It was nearly 3:30 when he got home, and he thought maybe he wouldn’t wake Boyd up after all. He just wanted to go to sleep. 

He undressed and slid carefully into bed, reaching over to wrap an arm around Boyd, but finding only empty space. He turned on the lamp next to the bed, and saw a piece of folded paper on the night stand. Between his exhaustion and his confusion, he had to read it three times before he was able to understand the words. Even then, they didn’t make much sense to him. 

_Dear Raylan,_

_I’m so sorry. I thought I could get over this, but I realize now that I can’t. It hurts too much, and I don’t think it will stop hurting. I’ve decided to go back home and try to get back into my daddy’s good graces. Please do not contact me. Do not follow me there - I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you because of me. It would be the end of me, I mean it. Please respect that. I hope you have a good life. I love you so much. I always will._

_Boyd_

Raylan folded the letter back up and held it for a minute. It took him some time to realize that he didn’t know what to do with it. Throwing it away seemed just as terrible as keeping it. It would be a permanent reminder of his guilt, but it also said, “I love you, I always will.” It begged him not to come to Harlan, but Raylan couldn’t imagine doing anything else. How could he not try to fix this? How could he just let him go? 

He stuck the letter in a book - one of Boyd’s, most of them were, and he’d left them behind - and went out to the living room. He didn’t think there was any way he’d be able to fall asleep, so he poured himself a drink and sat in front of the television. Some infomercial was on, and he stared at it while he drank. At some point he did sleep, or more like pass out from the grief and the whiskey, and didn’t wake up until almost 11 the next morning.

He couldn’t even think about going to his classes that day, but he didn’t want to be in the apartment either. He wandered around town, ate lunch and got drunk in a bar that he’d never been in, then played some pool. He tried to pick a fight with some loud-mouthed guy in blond dreadlocks, but the man had backed off as soon as Raylan had stepped forward, putting his hands up and saying, “Hey, peace, man. I’m not here to fight with you.” Raylan had rolled his eyes, paid his tab and walked out. 

He spent the next couple of days in similar, aimless fashion. Every second he spent in the apartment was painful, so he avoided it. He kept going to work, because he couldn't afford not to, especially now that Boyd wasn't here to share expenses. He went in, kept his head down and didn't speak unless he had to. People there knew Boyd, since he'd come in for drinks sometimes, but no one knew about their relationship, so he had no one to talk to about it even if he'd wanted to.

He wasn't working on Thursday, and he walked down to the little bar at the end of his street. The bartender there, a heavyset woman of indeterminate middle-age, with a kind face and a tattoo of a dragonfly on her shoulder, brought him a bourbon. 

"You don't look so great, honey. Where's your friend?"

Raylan sighed and looked at her. She wasn't blind, and they'd been coming there for a year. "Gone," he said. "Back to Kentucky."

"Oh, damn. I'm sorry. He was a nice boy." She was looking at him with sympathy, like she was waiting for him to pour his heart out onto the bar.

Raylan couldn't take anymore of that, and he drained his drink, then reached for his wallet.

"This one's on me. That's a real bitch, sweetie."

Raylan nodded and said, "Thanks." He headed out and almost ran into their neighbor - _his_ neighbor - Jacob, on the way out. 

"Raylan! I was just coming to look for you."

"Well, I was just leaving. I'll see you in class tomorrow," he said, and started walking away before he even finished talking. 

Jacob followed him, jogging to catch up and matching his brisk pace.

"I wanted to apologize to you. I made an assumption about you that was unfair, and probably wrong, and definitely intolerant. It was just my own insecurity, and -"

Raylan cut him off. "Listen. I don't give a shit. I couldn't make myself care about that right now if I wanted to."

They were already back at the apartment building, and heading up the stairs. When they reached Raylan's door, Jacob put his hand on his arm. 

"I heard your argument with Boyd on Friday. Well, the yelling parts, anyway. I kind of pieced together what happened."

"I don't want to talk about this. I'm going in." 

"Did he move out?" The boy looked upset, and Raylan couldn't really understand why he'd give a shit. It wasn't like they'd been friends. 

"Yeah, I guess he is. Look, I gotta-"

“We have some beer at our place. Marisa’s not home, but she should be back in a little while. Why don’t you just come hang out over there?”

Raylan wavered, not really wanting to go over there, but more put off by the idea of going home alone. “Alright. Thanks.”

They went next door, and Jacob brought him a beer. He sat down on the other end of the couch and drank a little. Raylan could tell he wanted to say something, but he didn’t particularly care what it was, so he just waited. Finally, Jacob said, “This probably sounds stupid, and like I think the world revolves around me or something, but did you do that because of what I said? Because I really feel like shit about it.”

Raylan closed his eyes and let his head fall back onto the cushion behind him. “I did it because I’m a fucking asshole who apparently doesn’t know himself nearly as well as he should. I fucked that girl because I had to make sure I still wanted to. For whatever stupid goddamn reason. Only, I didn’t want to, because as it turns out I don’t want anyone at all except for the person I was already with. But I did anyway, because like I said, I’m an asshole.”

Jacob was looking at him, horrified. “I’m sorry,” he said in a small voice.

“I just said it ain’t your fault. And then Boyd said it was okay. He forgave me. He said he...” Raylan was breathing heavily, fighting it off, and then he was crying, hard. He hadn’t cried since Boyd left, he’d been numb, but suddenly he couldn’t hold it back anymore. His face was in his hands, and his whole body was shaking. He was unused to it, and he’d forgotten how much it hurt.

Jacob didn't make any moves to pat his back or touch him at all, which was a surprisingly good call on his part. He got up and grabbed a roll of toilet paper from the hall closet and set it on the couch next to Raylan, who tore some off and wiped his face. 

"Sorry we don't have tissues. We're kind of broke at the moment."

Raylan nodded vaguely and sat back. He felt so empty, hollowed out by his tears. "He told  
me he wasn't going anywhere. We went camping, and everything was fine. Better than fine. When he left for work he told me to be sure to wake him up when I got home. Then he was gone. What the hell does that mean?"

Jacob frowned. "Didn't he leave a note or anything?"

"He did. It wasn't helpful. He told me not to contact him, but I don't know. I think he's nuts to go back there. He'll be lucky if his father doesn't kill him. And I ain't being dramatic, there's actually a decent chance of that happening."

"He went back to where you guys are from?"

"Yeah. Harlan fucking County, Kentucky. You've heard of it, I'm sure."

"I've heard of it. I don't think I'd want to live there."

"I assure you, you wouldn't. Neither would I. Boyd always liked it though. He knows how to be, in that place. I think he even likes being that way, or part of him does, anyway." Raylan's face had darkened, and it felt like his heart was being twisted up in two giant hands. He had a vision of what was going to happen to Boyd at the hands of Bo Crowder, and it wasn't death. It might be worse than that. 

"Are you going to go after him?"

"He told me not to. His daddy already threatened to kill me, that's why we left in the first place. I'd make things worse for him if I did. If I got killed, he'd... No, I can't go back."

"Shit, Raylan. That's crazy. He was going to kill you because..."

"Because of exactly what you think. Yes. He's got... professional interests that could be negatively affected by his eldest son having a boyfriend. So he figured he'd get rid of the boyfriend, and that would solve the problem. That's how it usually works, right?" Raylan laughed a little wildly, then said, "And that's the asshole Boyd's going home to grovel to."

"I didn't know him that well, but that doesn't sound like him."

"No, it doesn't. And it's all my fault."

Jacob was giving him a skeptical look, and started to say something before thinking better of it and taking another sip of his beer. Raylan glared at him and said, "I'm sure you're going to end up saying whatever it is you want to say. I hardly know you and I can tell that much. Don't expect me to beg for your wisdom."

Jacob smiled at him and said, "Sorry. It's a bad habit. I was just thinking, you know, that sounds like bullshit to me. He's a smart guy, resourceful. If he had to leave, that's one thing. I have no idea what he was thinking, though. I think I'd be willing to put up with a lot for someone like you. But he didn't have to go back there. You didn't force him to do that."

Raylan had no idea how to explain Boyd's relationship to Harlan, or his own, for that matter. The kid wasn't exactly wrong, but there was a lot he didn't understand. Raylan understood why Boyd had gone back there, though he hated it, though it made him feel scared and angry.

"Yeah, I guess," he said. "But he'd still be here if I hadn't been so stupid."

"I know you feel like shit. Would a blow job help?"

Raylan laughed. "Jesus. No, but thanks for the offer. Actually, I think I really am gonna go home now."

"Shit, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Jacob said, frowning.

“You didn’t. I’m just tired, and really fucking sad.”

“Okay... well, I’ll be up late, so if you can’t sleep or whatever... I mean, if you want to talk more, or...”

"Right. Well, thanks for the beer. Tell Marisa I said hi."

Raylan went home, undressed and laid awake for hours. Nothing made sense, and he had no idea how long it might be before it did.


	6. Goin' Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why Boyd left, and what happens when Raylan finds out.

The day he'd left Montana, Boyd had been at work for about forty-five minutes, and in the middle of helping a customer, when his supervisor yelled to him that he had a visitor. Thinking it must be Raylan, he said he'd be a minute, finished up with the guy he was helping, then walked into the shop with a grin on his face. It fell away immediately when he saw his brother Bowman standing on the other side of the counter. 

It had been the worst thing he could remember ever feeling. Worse by far than seeing that skank walk out of his apartment a few days prior. This was bad, and he'd had no idea what to do about it. 

"What do you want, Bowman? Why are you here?" he'd asked, as calmly as he could. 

"Daddy's out in the truck, Boyd," Bowman had said, with a very stupid, very mean grin on his face. "He says it's time to bring you back in the family. 'Course, I don't rightly know why he'd want a disgusting faggot like you in our family anyway. I said we should just leave you be, let you stay in your disgusting, sinning life, and let you and that cocksucker Givens go to hell together. But daddy said no, that you get one more chance. That you could still be saved and brought back in the fold."

"What if I don't want that, Bowman? What if I just want to stay here with Raylan?" Boyd had already known the answer, of course, but he’d asked anyway, because he didn't know what else to do. Bowman had just given a little laugh and glared at him.

His supervisor had been staring at them, and now he said, "Everything okay, Boyd?"

Nothing was the least bit okay, and at that moment, it had felt like it never would be again. However, there wasn't a damn thing his boss could do about it, so he said, "Yeah, Frank. Surprise visit from family, in from Kentucky. Any way I can get the day off?"

Frank had frowned, obviously aware that things weren't right, but he’d said okay. Boyd had followed Bowman outside and felt sick when he saw Bo Crowder sitting in a rented car, parked on the street. 

Bowman had pushed him towards the car, then opened the door and shoved him into the back seat.

"Well, hello there, son. If I can still call you that- you still got your balls, don't you?"

Boyd had just looked out the window as they drove towards his building. It did not surprise him that they knew the way. 

"We got in last night, Boyd, saw you and that skinny Givens scumbag come in, hauling a bunch of camping gear. Do you know, we were unfortunate enough to see that little shit kiss you right on the mouth? And shock of all shocks, son, you just went right along with it. Now, this directly contradicts what you told me, just about one year ago, when I asked about that very thing."

Boyd hadn’t said anything. He knew it was pointless to interrupt the big man in mid-rant, and nothing he could say would interest Bo anyway. Not about this.

"Now, I have to say, this is a great deal to go through for a little head. Is it not? Cost you a lot more than just paying a whore to do it, even with the cost of antibiotics." 

Bo had wheezed laughter at his own little joke, and Bowman had cracked up. Boyd had thought he might vomit.

"No," Bo continued, "I sincerely believe that you think you're in love with that boy. As disgusting a thing as that is for me to say, and as false and perverted a feeling though it is, I think you truly believe it to be so. I can only assume that he believes the same thing, which means he's gonna want to come after you, if he's any kind of man at all. I suppose you'd be the best judge of that. So you're gonna want to be real careful, here."

 

They pulled up in the street outside his building, but Bowman didn't unlock the doors yet. Bo spoke once again, without turning around.

"We are gonna go in there and you're gonna pack whatever you can fit in one bag. You're gonna write that boy a note that will convince him you're gone for good, and that he must never contact you again. You'll do that, because the other option is his immediate death. I don't mind that option, myself. Hell, I'd enjoy it, but I doubt it would be your first choice. The only reason I ain't doing it now is that this ain't familiar territory. The minute he steps back on mine, however, he's a fucking dead man."

Boyd's future stretched out in front of him, he’d seen it pass before his eyes like a dying man might see the life he'd already lived. He had no idea how to get through this. He had no idea what to say to Raylan to keep him away. 

He'd ended up throwing some clothes and toiletries in a bag, along with the scarf and book Raylan had bought him for Christmas the year before. He thought about leaving them, so Raylan would think he didn't care at all, but he couldn't bear that. 

He’d written his note, and they’d left, Bowman driving his truck back and Boyd riding in the car with his daddy. Bo laid out the plan he had for his son, starting with his enlistment - apparently, Bo had already spread the story around that Boyd had joined the army, and now he was making it come true. He’d said that Boyd should rest assured they'd be keeping track of Raylan's location, in case Boyd should put a foot wrong.

 

They drove straight through back to Kentucky, Bowman and Boyd taking turns at the wheel. When Boyd was driving, he thought almost constantly about killing them, about causing an accident, about just stopping the truck and getting out, taking his chances. In the end, he just thought about Raylan, and keeping him safe, and he did nothing.

When they got home, Boyd did not go to see anyone. He didn’t go anywhere. He sat in the house and waited for orders from his father, and tried not to think of much else. 

Helen came by once when Boyd was the only one at the house, and he was quite sure that was no coincidence. It hurt him to look at her, and even more to hear her speak - he could hear Raylan in the way she said certain words, and saw him in the way she cocked her head at him. It made what he had to tell her even harder to get out. 

She’d come to ask him, to make sure. She said, “Son, I need to know. Are you here under your own steam, or did someone make you come back?”

Boyd put on the hardest face he had - it didn’t even feel like himself anymore, and he hoped it was convincing enough - and said, “You were right, Helen. We were stupid to think we could make that work.”

“That ain’t the way it seemed, last time I talked to Raylan. He sounded real happy.” She was frowning at him, sad-faced, staring like she was trying to see his thoughts.

Boyd felt something tearing inside of him, but he couldn’t let her see, she couldn’t know. He blinked and said, “It didn’t work. I couldn’t stay there anymore. You want to know in detail what happened, you can ask him. I’m done with it.”

“You don’t love him no more?”

Boyd opened his mouth to lie about that, but he couldn’t say the words. And anyway, he hadn’t lied to Raylan about it. There was no point in doing it now. “I do. I think I probably always will. But I couldn’t stay there, and he cannot ever come back here. Do you hear me, Helen? He can’t. He’ll die if he does. I can’t have that. It’ll kill me.”

“All right. I won’t let him come anywhere near here, if I can stop him. But you know him - at least, I assume you do, by now. He don’t always listen.”

 

After a week of wallowing in self-pity, Raylan realized he needed to start going to classes again, or he was going to fail out. He hadn’t exactly been sailing through as it was, and he wasn’t about to waste all the money Helen had given him just because Boyd was gone. He spoke to all of his professors, telling them he’d had a death in the family, and most of them were willing to cut him a little slack. 

He started picking up extra hours at work too, taking other people’s shifts and offering to stay late. He wanted to be busy. 

On a rare evening off, Raylan came home from school to a ringing phone. It was Boyd’s boss from the lumberyard, Frank, asking for a current address to send Boyd’s check to. He knew who Raylan was, because Boyd had talked about him sometimes. He’d been braver than Raylan like that, and Raylan had always known it. In fact, on their way back from camping, he’d been giving it a lot of thought, and had decided to try harder, be more forthcoming. He knew that hiding and lying was no way to live a life, and the further he got from Harlan, the less normal it felt to do that. 

“I’m sorry to bug you, Raylan. I could mail you the check for you to send along, but I thought it would be easier for you if you just gave me the address.” Frank sounded uncomfortable in the way people did when they spoke to someone who was grieving.

“Oh, sure. I appreciate that. It’s, uh... “ Raylan had to think for a minute, because he’d always just gone to Boyd’s house, wasn’t sure if he’d ever known an actual address for it. He ended up just giving the name of the holler, and the zip code for Harlan, and assuring Frank that if it had Boyd’s name on it, it would get to him. “It ain’t a very big place. And everyone knows the Crowders.”

Frank didn’t say goodbye right away, started to speak but hesitated, and Raylan said, “Was there something else?”

“Son, this is obviously none of my business, but did he have some sort of family emergency? Because for him to leave like that, it seemed out of character. And he was always talking about how much he liked Montana, and he always talked about you like... well, he was real happy. Seemed like it anyway. And then when his brother came in unexpected like that-”

Raylan’s entire body went cold, and he cut off Frank’s words. “I’m sorry, what? His brother?”

“That’s what he said. They didn’t look too friendly with each other. I just assumed his family didn’t... you know. I thought they might not like his living arrangement.”

Raylan’s heart was pounding, and he felt light-headed. He sat and hung his head, trying to get it locked down. “Yes,” he said, “You could say that.” He laughed weakly. 

“Are you alright?” 

“When did his brother come in, exactly?” Raylan had gotten his voice back under some kind of control, and under the fear, some hope was starting to creep in. 

“On Monday morning. He asked for the rest of the day off. Then I never heard from him again.”

“Jesus,” Raylan breathed. “You know what, Frank? Go ahead and mail that check here, would you? I’ll get it to Boyd for you.”

“That’ll be fine, son, but... “

“Frank, I gotta run, but thank you. You’ve been a big help.”

Raylan hung up the phone and packed a bag. He tried to call Helen, but there was no answer, and he didn’t want to leave any messages about this. He called off work, walked down to the bus station, bought a ticket and sat down to wait. 

The bus ride, with it’s several transfers and hours-long layovers, stinking human cargo, crying babies and cramped seating would have been hellish all by itself. The constant churning in Raylan’s gut, and the relentless, repetitive track of his thoughts, made it far worse. It was nearly impossible to sleep, and by the time he reached the Greyhound terminal in Lexington, more than 24 hours later, he was physically and mentally exhausted. 

There was a smaller bus company that ran out to Harlan, but the next one wasn’t due for more than three hours. Raylan didn’t feel like he could possibly sit in that bus station and wait that long. He was so close now, close to Boyd, close to getting his life back. 

He no longer felt any fear, not for himself and not for Boyd. The only thing there was to be afraid of was doing nothing - letting Boyd ruin his life for Raylan, trying to move on with this knowledge in his head. There was no way. He knew why Boyd had made the choice he had, and it made him angry. Not only at Boyd, but at himself as well. He’d allowed Boyd to think of him as helpless, he’d put him in the role of protector, and Raylan didn’t need that shit. He was going to prove it now. 

He called a taxi and paid the skeptical driver up front for the ride to Harlan, and gave him Helen’s address. He needed a truck and a gun, for starters.

They pulled up in front of Helen’s house, and she was waiting at the front door by the time the cab pulled away. She pulled him into a fierce hug before he’d even put his bag down, then looked him in the eyes and said, “You know he don't want you back here.”

Raylan shook his head sharply. “He doesn’t get to say where I go, Helen. He doesn’t belong here any more than I do, and I won’t have him slowly dying in this place because he thinks he has to protect me. I should be standing with him in this. He should never have shut me out of it.”

“It was Bo, then. I knew it, but he wouldn’t admit it. He said it would kill him if anything happens to you because of this. He said to make you stay away.”

“Well, you can’t. And neither can he. If he can't handle the risk, then he should never have started this in the first place. But he did, and I'm here now, and I ain't going anywhere without him. Bo Crowder can go fuck himself."

Helen was looking at him funny, and he didn't know what to think. It was so different from the way she'd looked the day he and Boyd had run off - and they had run, there was no other word for it. That day, she'd been sad, and scared, and angry. There had been nothing unclear about it. 

Now, she was unreadable, and she looked into his eyes long enough to make him uncomfortable. Finally, she said, "You ain't a boy anymore, I can see that. You're doing what a man should do, and I won't try to stop you."

"Lot of people would say I ain't any kind of man at all." He was looking back at her steadily, wanting to be sure of her. 

"Well, you know that's bullshit, Raylan. I worried when the two of you left together, but not because of that. I thought... sneaking around is easy. It's exciting. Living together, doing dishes and paying bills and all that, it ain't as much fun. I thought you'd both find that out pretty quick."

"It was the best year of my life. It's the happiest I've ever been. There's no way I'm just letting it go like he wants me to."

Helen smiled then and said, "I know, boy. That's what I said. Go get him."

Raylan nodded and told her what he needed. She fetched the shotgun and handed him the keys to the truck he'd left behind.

He drove out to the Crowder property, trying not to think much at all. There was no way to plan this out, that he could think of. Maybe Boyd could have come up with something - no, probably he could have - but all Raylan could do was act. 

He pulled up in the yard and saw Boyd's truck there, but no other vehicles. When he knocked, there was no answer, and he went around to the back of the house to check. No one was around. 

He was momentarily stumped, but he remembered that Bo did a lot of business out of his brother Johnny's bar. It was the only place he could think of, so he headed that way. He hadn't wanted to force a confrontation with Boyd's father, but maybe it was for the best. Running away had only worked for a little while. This time they would need to walk away on their own terms. 

There were a few trucks and a beat up Duster covered in primer in the parking lot of the bar. It was the middle of the afternoon, and the real crowd wouldn't start coming in until after the day shift at the mine was over. Raylan remembered that well enough from when he and Boyd used to come in here. 

They used to come in and drink until they were drunk enough to allow a little honesty between them. Not much, but some. They could look at each other more freely then, and neither would speak of it. 

After awhile, they'd stopped pretending that they didn't want each other all to themselves, though neither would yet say why that was. They would just get a bottle and go off somewhere together, talking some, but the real honesty came during the silences. When it finally happened, Raylan hadn't been surprised at all. 

That all felt like a long time ago, and Raylan felt like a different person. He walked into the bar to find Boyd's cousin tending bar for his father. He didn't see Bo, or Boyd, or anyone else he recognized other than someone who might have been at the mine at the same time as him and Boyd.

Raylan knew Johnny Crowder, the younger, from when they played baseball together in high school. He didn't expect that would earn him any consideration.

Johnny looked up to see who was coming in, and his jaw dropped when he saw. Raylan approached the bar and nodded at him.

"Hey, Johnny. Where's Boyd?"

"Are you crazy, man? What the fuck are you doing here?" Johnny was looking at him like he had truly lost his mind. Raylan figured that must mean he had at least some information. 

"I think you know exactly what I'm doing here. Where the fuck is Boyd?" Raylan wasn't too angry yet, but he wouldn't take much more of this shit from Johnny. He was a big guy, and tough, but Raylan would do whatever he needed to do. He knew how how to fight, and he knew how to hurt people, if he had to. 

"I guess you checked out at the house," he said, in what was not really a question. He barely waited for a response before going on. "I assume he's with Bo somewhere then. Big man don't really trust him on his own right now. Guess you know why."

"I guess I do."

Johnny hesitated, like he wasn't sure he should speak, but he eventually blurted it out anyway. "He'd be better off, you just left him alone."

Raylan frowned like that didn't make a goddamn bit of sense, because it didn't, and leaned forward to ask, "How do you figure that?"

"You go on back to wherever you were, you go find some other faggot to fall in love with. Let Boyd fucking get over it. Let him deal with Bo, get back his stake in that business, let him find  
some woman who don't so much mind him going off and doing what he needs to do once in awhile."

"Sounds like you know something about it," Raylan said, brows raised.

"Fuck you, Raylan. I work in a bar, okay? You hear shit."

Raylan laughed harshly and said, "And you really think that kind of life sounds just fine for someone like Boyd? Or for anyone? I'm not sure how you imagined things were for me and him, but what you just described sounds like pure shit in comparison. Lying all the time? Fucking someone you don't want to fuck? Working for the man who threatened the life of someone you love? Would you want that?"

"Better than what he was doing with you. What he was turning into." Johnny had a stubborn scowl set into his features, and he sounded like he was speaking someone else's words.

"Ah, that's a load of shit. You seen Boyd since he's been back?"

"No."

"Then what are you even talking about? Whatever bullshit you heard from Bowman? If Boyd's different, it's only him being his own man now, not Bo's. And anyway, I don't give a shit what you think of him or me. The point is, goddamn it, it's his choice to make, not the fucking big man's."

"Well... I can't argue with you on that point. But I still can't help you, I really don't know where the hell he is."

A shaft of light came across Johnny's face as the door opened. His face tensed up as he looked toward the door. "But Bowman may have some idea. You can ask him." With that, he backed away from the bar, occupying himself with busy work.

Raylan turned and saw Bowman Crowder striding aggressively towards the bar, staring at Raylan. When he got close, he swung hard, but slow enough that Raylan was able to get out of the way. 

At 18, Bowman was a big boy, muscled from high school football, mean as hell from growing up trying to please Bo Crowder and always falling short. Raylan might have had sympathy for the boy - he knew what it was to crave approval from a father and never get it - but he was also just so fucking stupid, and a bully. 

Raylan had him down on the bar quickly after he overbalanced from the ridiculous punch he'd tried to throw. 

"Bowman," he said, "Where is Boyd?"

"Who the fuck do you think you're talking to, Givens? You got no right knowing where my brother is."

Raylan pulled up a little harder on the arm he had twisted up behind Bowman's back, and said, "I got every right. More than you'll ever understand. Tell me where he is before, I swear to God, I fuck you up like you have never imagined. I will _hurt_ you. Believe it." 

"It don't matter anyway. Daddy took Boyd up to Lexington to enlist in the Army.They left over an hour ago, you're way too fucking late." Bowman let out a slightly shrill laugh. "And Daddy's gonna kill your faggot ass anyway.

"You know, you people gotta find some new insults. 'Faggot' just don't pack the same punch it once did." Raylan let Bowman up. "If you're trying to say I like to fuck guys, well, I guess I already knew that. Can't say it's an insult if it's something true, can I?"

Bowman and Johnny were both staring at him, as was everyone else in the joint.

"What, I'm gonna deny it? Or you think I'm gonna fucking swoon because you call me a name? I don't give a shit. I'm going to find my goddamn boyfriend." Raylan walked out the door quickly and got into the truck.

The confrontation with Bowman had sucked more wind out of him than he would have imagined - not the failed attempt at a fistfight, that was nothing, but what Raylan said to him, and to Johnny, and really every man in that bar. 

He'd never said anything like that, had never even called Boyd his boyfriend, except in his head and maybe once or twice in private, almost jokingly, or like he was trying it on. It had always seemed too casual, too normal, for how he had always perceived their relationship. 

He'd been unprepared for how terrifying it had been to say it, and for how absolutely right it felt. Now, he thought, maybe what they had was not anything so unheard of; maybe it was just good. Maybe they were just lucky.

Raylan sped towards Lexington. He didn't know if he could catch them. He didn’t know what he'd do if he did. He didn't want Boyd to join the fucking Army, but if he did, it wasn't the end of the world anyway. He could wait for him. Everything was going to be just fucking fine. 

He didn't know where the recruitment center was. When he got close, he pulled into a gas station and asked to look at their phone book. He got the address, asked for directions, and drove off. 

He parked on the street, but had to walk some distance to get there. He suddenly felt sure he'd made a pointless trip. They would have been long gone before now. He kept walking, but he felt like he had ten pound weights around his ankles. All the hopefulness he'd been feeling was gone.

Raylan approached the glass storefront office and pushed open the door. A man in a uniform looked up from the desk he was sitting behind, and stood as Raylan walked forward. "Can I help you, son?" he asked. 

Raylan looked down at the end of the room and saw Boyd sitting with another uniformed man. There was a half-finished stack of paperwork in front of him, and he was holding a pen, but staring at Raylan. 

Raylan walked toward him and Boyd said, "You shouldn't be here. Why the hell are you here, Raylan?"

Raylan was standing next to his chair now, and he said, "Well, I ain't here to sign up with the military, that's for damn sure."

The recruiter had stood up while they were talking, and he said, "Well, son, if that's the case, you ought to head on out of here. We've got a lot to finish up with your friend here."

Raylan smiled grimly and said, "Yeah, he ain't signing up either. Come on, Boyd, let's get the fuck outta here."

"Raylan, I can't." Boyd stood and pulled Raylan away from the desk. "You can't fucking be here. I told you not to come. My daddy-"

"Your daddy, what? He's gonna hurt me? Kill me? Fuck him, Boyd, I ain't afraid of him."

Boyd's eyes were wide and furious. "Well, I am. And you should be." 

They were both speaking in low, urgent whispers, and the recruiter was frowning at them. "Excuse me, is there some kind of problem?"

Raylan looked over and said, "No problem, we're just leaving."

"Mr. Crowder is in the middle of the recruitment process, sir. You need to go now."

Boyd said, "Yeah, Raylan. You got to go. I got things to do. Gonna serve my country."

Raylan glared at him and said, "You can't." He looked at the recruitment officer again and grinned humorlessly. "Sorry, he can't."

"Raylan..." Boyd spoke in a low warning tone. 

"He's my boyfriend. We've been living together for the past year. You can't take him, right?"

"Jesus Christ, Raylan."

The recruiter said, "I think it's time for you both to leave. Mr. Crowder, you come back when you've figured out what you want to do. We will only consider statements you make about yourself, we're not interested in unfounded accusations."

Boyd shook his head angrily and stalked outside. Raylan followed and grabbed his arm when the door closed behind them. "Hey. I'm here, Boyd. You can't get rid of me by lying, or by acting pissed, or by begging me. There's nothing you can do to make me leave you here."

Boyd looked down and pinched the bridge of his nose. He kept looking down as he spoke. "Raylan, I was prepared to go to the war. I was prepared to spend the rest of my life in Harlan after that. Do you understand how important it is to me that you are safe?"

"Yeah. I get it. But Boyd... you didn't give me the choice in this. I'm not yours to protect." Raylan was still holding his arm, and he ran his hand down to the elbow. "I can take care of myself. Even if something bad happens, it's better than the other way."

"No it's _not_ , not if my father... oh, shit. Shit. He's coming this way." Boyd shook his hand off. 

"Well, he ain't gonna do anything in front of the Army recruitment office." Raylan didn’t bother to turn to where Boyd was looking. 

"Raylan, just go." Boyd's eyes were pleading with him, but Raylan was not moved by it. It was his choice to make.

"Sure, I'll go. If you come with me. Weren't you listening? I ain't going anywhere without you." 

Raylan saw Boyd’s face change, and he was horrified by it. For a very brief second, it looked blankly terrified, and then it seemed to clear, and change into something he had not seen in quite a long time, something that had disappeared when they’d put Harlan in their rearview, after he’d said, “We can do anything we want.” 

Raylan hated it, never wanted to see it again. He knew it was exactly what Boyd’s face would harden into if he stayed here. If Raylan left and came back in five years, in ten, twenty, that look would be stamped on permanently, and even Raylan wouldn’t be able to make it go away again. 

He wanted it gone now, even if Boyd thought he needed it for this. "I know who you are," he said. "Not this. Not for me.”

Boyd stared at him, and his expression wavered. He nodded, like he’d made up his mind about something. “I knew you’d come, you know.”

“I know.” Raylan gave him a small smile, then turned around. Bo was crossing the street, striding towards them, murder in his eyes. They stood stock still, both of them, watching him. 

Bo walked up, stared straight at Raylan and said, "My son was trying to spare you, boy. You just spit in his damn face, coming here. Now you both got to face what's coming."

Raylan made his face stony and stared back at the man. Bo Crowder had always been an intimidating figure to him as a child and a young man, but he was a grown man now, and it felt different. “What’s coming, Bo? You gonna shoot me down like a dog in the street?”

“What’s coming, you little fucker, is Boyd’s going back to Harlan with me. If you choose to follow, you can die there, in the county where the bones of your family lie. If you’d rather not, then go ahead and pick your spot. Wherever you land, that’s where you’ll die, son.”

Raylan frowned at him like he wasn’t making any sense at all. “You’re gonna hunt me down and kill me, because why? ‘Cause you can’t make Boyd stop loving me?” Bo’s eyes got wider and his lips curled in a snarl. Raylan pulled his head back a little and grinned. “That’s it, ain’t it? You don’t understand it, and you fucking hate it, and you _can’t make it stop._

Raylan forced himself to keep his eyes on Bo, even though he heard - or maybe felt - Boyd react. 

Bo found his voice and said, "I'm gonna kill you because you're an arrogant pissant, just like your pathetic, wife-beating daddy, plus being a deviant and dragging my son down with you. But mostly, because you fucking crossed me."

Raylan smiled calmly, and then he did look over at Boyd. 

"If he kills me, I want you to promise me something."

Boyd met his eyes, and Raylan could see the uncertainty in them. He still didn't believe that this was something he could do, not really. He was still giving Bo all the power. 

Even so, he nodded, and said, "Yeah. Anything, Raylan." Raylan loved him in that moment more than he ever had. He was so brave, despite clearly being scared shitless. 

"You won't kill him. And you'll leave Harlan."

Boyd's face filled with righteous indignation, and he said, "Raylan, you think I could let him live after something like that? Who the hell do you think you're talking t-"

Raylan put his hand back on Boyd's arm, and his words cut off immediately. He didn't look to see what Bo's reaction to that was, but he knew it couldn't be good. 

"I know exactly who I'm talking to, Boyd. _I know who you are._ " He hoped the boy understood him, because this was all he had, the only thing he could think of that might get under Bo Crowder's skin. 

Boyd was breathing harder than normal, but his eyes were on Raylan and it seemed like he understood him. "That's right, you do," he replied. Then he smiled at Raylan, a real smile, the kind he'd been seeing from him for most of the past year. "Not that. Not for anything, Raylan."

Raylan nodded at him. "You got a paycheck waiting for you. Frank was gonna mail it to Harlan, but I told him not to bother 'cause you'd be home real soon."

Boyd's smile grew even bigger at that, and Bo made a disgusted noise. "He'll be home in two hours. You plan to tag along?"

Raylan crossed his arms and said, "Boyd ain't going near Harlan, or anywhere at all with you." 

Bo grinned gleefully, like he thought he knew something, like he'd caught them in some kind of trap. "My son don't let no one speak for him."

Boyd didn't say anything to Bo, but turned to Raylan instead. "I left that scarf you bought me for Christmas. I might need that, it got cold as shit in Missoula last year."

"That's okay, baby, I'll buy you another one." 

Raylan had never called Boyd any such thing in the entire time they'd known each other, and his main motivation had been only to piss off Bo, but the expression on Boyd's face made him want to laugh. He thought he might just call him that all the damn time.

Bo seemed to be at a loss for words, momentarily, and then he said, "Now, Boyd, you need to think about this real careful. What do you think your poor mother would think about what you're doing?"

Boyd finally looked at Bo again, as if he'd forgotten he was there. "My mother's dead. If she's somewhere she can see me right now, I would like to think its a place, lets you see things how they really are. So she can see how happy I been with Raylan, and how being with him makes me a better man. Don't really matter though, regardless. He came for me, and I'm leaving with him."

"You are making a big mistake, boy." Bo looked as if all the fight had left him, although Raylan wasn't ready to let down his guard just yet. 

"I really don't think I am," Boyd answered, "but even if I am, it's mine to make. You want to come at us, you know where to find us. One thing you can rest assured of, Daddy, is nothing you do is gonna make me into what you want me to be. Not anymore."

Bo looked at Boyd with an expression Raylan had seen on his own father's face plenty of times, but Boyd looked away from it. He must not have been used to it, Raylan figured, which was nice for him. It was contempt, and disappointment, and outright disgust. 

"You ready, Boyd?" Raylan kept any sympathy he might be feeling, out of his voice entirely. He could give him that later, if he seemed to need it, but Raylan knew he wouldn't want Bo to hear it. 

"I'm ready." He nodded at Bo and turned to walk away. He didn't look back, and he didn't slow, even after Bo called after him that they'd better not ever set foot in Harlan again. He pretended not to hear, and just asked Raylan, "What are you driving?"

"My old truck. Helen got it running better, or so she says. It'll probably break down in fucking Nebraska."

Boyd brushed a hand across his back, lightly and very briefly, and said, "Well, that's alright. We can always camp out." Raylan shivered.

"Careful, Boyd. Next time you touch me, I might just throw you down on the sidewalk. Can't remember the last time I went this long without sex."

Boyd smirked at him and said, "You're telling me you couldn't find one single girl willing to fuck you in the last two weeks?"

They had reached the truck, and Raylan leaned against the side of it, regarding Boyd and trying to imagine what that would have been like. Tried to imagine bringing home some poor girl, or even some boy - he might have done that - letting them play a bit part in his misery. He shook his head and huffed a soft laugh. "Guess not. I did get an offer of a blow job, though, I'll have you know."

Boyd grinned and climbed into the passenger side of the cab. "You can tell me this story on the road, Raylan. Let's head west... baby." They both cracked up, and Raylan hopped into the driver's seat. 

They started driving, took turns sleeping, and took the occasional break to fool around, when they could find a good place to park. All either of them really wanted was to get back, to get _home._

They pulled up in front of their building, late the following evening. Raylan fumbled the key ring, dropped it, and cursed - mildly. He thought it might be a long time before he was able to feel very pissed off again, though he also knew he might be fooling himself. 

Boyd laughed at him and said he'd better hurry up and open the damn door or he was going to bend him over the railing, at which moment the door to their neighbors' apartment opened. Marisa peeked out, and her face split into a huge grin. She turned her head back into the apartment and shouted, "It's him! He's back!" 

She came out and gave Boyd a hug, saying, "I knew you weren't leaving for good. That would have been so stupid!"

Jacob came onto the terrace next, and smiled at them both a little tentatively. Apparently he still felt responsible for the entire thing. "Hey, Boyd. Good to see you back."

Boyd looked at him inscrutably and said, "Oh yeah, you sure? I heard you were looking to sub in." The boy's face fell for a second, until Boyd winked and grinned at him. Raylan snorted and called him an asshole.

“You guys should come over and drink! And we have a bunch of leftovers from this vegetarian potluck we went to last night,” Marisa said, as if that should clinch the deal. 

Raylan had gotten the door unlocked and was holding it slightly open, and he said, “You know, maybe we can take you up on that tomorrow night. We drove straight through from Kentucky and we gotta get some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Boyd said, yawning. “We’re real tired.”

They said goodnight, and Raylan wasted no time grabbing Boyd by the arm and pulling him inside. “I ain’t tired, Boyd.”

“Me neither," Boyd replied, and pushed him towards the bedroom. 

They stripped down real quick, and Boyd practically tackled Raylan onto the bed. "I'm so sorry," he said, his hands on Raylan's shoulders and the chests pressed together. "I was so afraid of what he'd do to you, I didn't think about what I was doing to both of us."

Raylan already knew all that, didn't need to be told, and he didn't want an apology anyway. He smiled up at the boy - no, he was no boy anymore, he realized, no more than Raylan himself was now. That was what they'd done for one another, one of the things, anyway. 

"You always want to take care of me, and I don't want to stop you doing that. I love it. But if it ever happens again that you think leaving me is the only way, I suggest you think twice. I will kick your ass, son." 

Boyd raised an eyebrow and said, "So you're saying I can never leave you?"

"Sure you can. I was gonna let you go when I thought it was you wanting to go."

"I don't think I could ever want that, Raylan." 

Raylan wrapped his arms around him tight, not in the desperate way he had when he'd been afraid of losing him, but just because he could hardly believe he had him back. Boyd kissed him, gave him an amused smile, and said, “I’m really not going anywhere this time. I promise.”

Raylan gazed back at him but didn’t smile yet. “Why’d you have to make it my fault?”

Boyd closed his eyes and let his head fall forward so it rested on Raylan’s shoulder. When he picked it back up, he looked at him gravely. “I hated doing that. It was the only thing I could... I thought your guilt would distract you enough so you’d believe that I’d leave you of my own accord. I thought you’d be too busy feeling like shit to figure out that I would never do that.”

“Well... I guess it worked pretty goddamn great.”

“Jesus, it sounds terrible, saying it out loud. It was terrible. I’m sor-” Raylan cut him off with a kiss. 

“Nope. That’s okay. I don’t care, I really don’t. Let’s just not do that, Boyd. I only want to get back to normal.”

Boyd breathed out in relief and kissed him again, long and hot, and didn’t pull back until Raylan was panting and hard. "I only want that too, Raylan."

"Well, normally we would be fucking by now."

Boyd laughed real low and bent to kiss him behind his ear, and down his neck. Raylan reached up to stroke the side of his head, and finally felt himself relax. He let go of the sharp tension he'd been feeling since speaking to Frank on the phone, the stress from the twisting pain he'd felt since Boyd had left, and even the low-level fear he'd had, mostly unconsciously, since they'd left Harlan in the first place. 

He didn't need to be waiting for any more shoes to drop, because they already had, and he and Boyd were still here. This was real, and it was his life. 

"You do it, Boyd. I want you to fuck me."

Boyd's fingers curled and dug into the skin of his shoulder. He whispered, "Alright," and nothing else. Raylan didn't speak either, for quite some time. He let Boyd take care of him, gave himself over, didn't rush it.

After some time had passed - a little or a lot, Raylan had no idea - Boyd knelt up and looked down at him, questioning with his eyes. 

Raylan just smiled, and Boyd started fucking him, slow and easy, his eyes drifting shut and his hand wandering down to grasp loosely at Raylan's cock. 

They had only done this the one time before, when Raylan had needed reassurance so badly, when he'd needed Boyd to show him that they would be okay. That had been intense, and beautiful in its way, but this was better. 

Raylan placed a hand flat on Boyd's belly and felt the muscles rolling as he moved. He thought about those muscles, and all the other parts that made up this person, his bones and his blood, his heart and his brain and his skin, somehow all put together in a way that made Raylan love him, as improbable and inconvenient as that had once seemed.

"How you doing, Raylan?" Boyd had opened his eyes and was gazing down on him. His voice sounded sleepy, almost drugged, and the look on his face needed no interpretation. 

"I'm real good, Boyd. So good, but... I want you to fill me up. I want... I want everything. I want all of you. Always you." He didn't feel like he was making much sense. He'd wanted to say something to make Boyd understand what he was feeling, but he'd lost the thread halfway through. 

Boyd didn't seem to care. He seemed to like it just fine, and maybe he'd understood enough of it anyway. He let out a low moan that turned into a growl at the end, and pushed into Raylan, his orgasm taking both of them by surprise. 

Boyd kissed him as he pulled out, then reached for him, stroking and kissing and keeping him close, and when Raylan came into his hand he thought he had never felt anything so sweet. 

Boyd got up to grab a washcloth from the bathroom, then lay back down. Raylan had started to doze off in the thirty seconds or so that took, but he roused when Boyd spoke to him.

"I can't believe I thought I could live that life, be that man again, be without you. You came to get me, Raylan. That's the second time you saved me from that."

Raylan snorted and said, "I think it was your daddy that saved you the first time, and maybe me too, made us decide. I would have stayed there with you, but who knows how long before that place killed what we had."

"Things don't die from the dark, Raylan. They change. They get stunted and twisted, they learn to make their own light, but it's not real. It's like a memory of light." 

Raylan shuddered. "Jesus Christ, Boyd."

"All trying to say is, I'm glad we left. And I'm so glad you didn't listen to me. I just... I love you. That doesn't even sound like enough for what I feel for you."

"Boyd, I know you love me. I've always known that, you don't even have to tell me. Same as you know I love you - how long have you known that?"

"Since Wyoming." Boyd was looking at him intently, like he didn't know what Raylan was trying to say. That was a rare occurrence.

"Only since then?" Raylan gave a surprised laugh. "Jesus, I've loved you forever. Since... well, at least since we were 14."

"What? You're lying. Ain't no way you knew you wanted me then."

"I didn't say I _wanted_ you then. I said I loved you. Don't you remember that summer? That summer, Arlo and Bo were in something together, you might know better than me. But anyway, he used to bring you around a lot, remember? And he'd make you sit in until he needed to talk about something you couldn't hear about."

"Yeah, sure. I remember. And we'd go off and..." Boyd kind of laughed, like he couldn't believe this hadn't occurred to him before, "...lie around on that hill behind your house, and talk about all kinds of shit. I kind of forgot about that. We used to talk for hours."

"Yeah. When we started 9th grade and you dropped me, I was crushed, and I didn't even know why. But I think it must be because I fell in love with you, and I didn't even know it."

"I didn't drop you, Raylan. My daddy told me... well, shit. There seems to be a pattern developing. Can I say I'm sorry for that one?"

"If you like. I'll be sure to let poor, clueless, 14 year old Raylan know."

"I already wanted you by then, you know. I wanted to kiss you on your perfect, pretty face." He kissed him then, soft, on the cheek, and then on the nose. 

"I would have run away from you if you'd done that. I didn't know I wanted you until... maybe two years later. And that was not necessarily a welcome realization."

"Way back then?" Boyd was looking at him, fascinated. "You never said."

"I don't know why. Embarrassed, for some ridiculous reason. I had a dream about you, see."

" _That_ kind of dream?"

Raylan sighed. "Yeah, that kind. But that wasn't really the part that bothered me. I mean, you know, dreams are fucking weird. A teenage boy could have a wet dream about a potted plant, or his grandma, or whatever the fuck. Don't mean nothing, and I knew that."

Raylan paused, and took a moment to draw Boyd in close again, pulling him up so he could rest his chin on the top of Boyd's head. 

"But after," he continued, "you know, afterwards you hugged me, in the dream. And you said we should talk sometime, like we used to. And I woke up feeling like I wanted to fucking cry, because I suddenly missed you so much. And I could never get you all the way out of my head after that. I'd be jerking off, and it would be your face I'd see when I came. That even happened sometimes when I was with a girl. It bothered me at first, but after awhile it was just something that was, you know? That's why I grinned at you like that when you saw me with Ginny. I knew I'd see you later when I fucked her anyway, smoking and looking over at me like you had me all figured out." 

Raylan had been running his hand up and down Boyd's back as he spoke, and he could feel the goosebumps rise up when he said that last. 

Boyd huffed softly. "Clearly, I did not." 

"Maybe that's why I never looked at any other boys. My head was all full of you."

Boyd pulled his mouth to the side and cocked an eyebrow at him. "Or maybe you're just a hopeless romantic with very specific taste."

"Lucky you," Raylan said, smiling and propping himself up on an elbow to look at him.

"Yep. Lucky me," Boyd said, sliding his body over onto Raylan's, "Lucky both of us."

"Uh... not that I wouldn't ordinarily be totally into this, but I've gotten about five hours sleep out of the last thirty-six."

"Okay then. Tomorrow morning."

"Yeah. Definitely." Raylan yawned convulsively. "And then we can go into town for breakfast, and you can beg Frank for your job back. And thank him for clueing me in."

Boyd snuggled into him and pulled the blanket up. "I can't think of anything better than all that."

Raylan was fading fast, but he managed to say, "Okay, baby. Night." He felt Boyd laugh and squeeze him tight as he fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's an epilogue coming soon, this is not quite the end, even though it feels like it.


	7. Epilogue: Funny How Time Slips Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens next.

They spent the next four years together in Missoula. 

When their lease ended, they got a larger place in town, closer to campus. It had two bedrooms, so Raylan wrote to his mother and asked her to come stay awhile. He didn’t hear from her for a long time, no letter or phone call, until almost four months after he’d sent it. Then she called him from Noble’s Holler, saying Elston Limehouse was going to put her on a bus, and she’d be in Montana in three days. 

She stayed with them for one month, then one night over dinner, said she had to be heading back. Raylan just looked at her and nodded silently. He’d seen it enough times to know how it was with her, and had stopped trying to argue about it years before. Boyd frowned at her, though, and then at Raylan when he didn’t say anything. 

“Miss Frances, you don’t have to go anywhere,” he said. “You can stay with us as long as you like. We’ll take care of you.”

She patted his hand and said, “Boyd Crowder, you turned out to be a much better boy than you had any right to. Well, so did Raylan, when you come down to it. And you can call me mama, if you like. I wish you would.”

Boyd put his other hand on top of hers and said, “Alright. So why don’t you stay?”

“This ain’t home. I lived in Harlan County my whole life, and I don’t feel quite right anywhere else. I ain’t stupid, I know what I’m going back to.” She turned to Raylan and said, “I’m sorry, honey. I know you-”

Raylan cut her off quickly. “Don’t. I already know all those words. Just... try to take care of yourself, Mama.”

They put her on a bus the next day. She cried, but Raylan didn’t, of course. Not even later, when Boyd told him he could.

They never saw her again. They did, however, return to Harlan for her funeral, years later, after they’d already left Missoula. Bo was in prison at the time, and no one bothered them. They had a drink at Johnny’s just for the hell of it, and let him give them a dose of good-natured disgust with whatever it was he imagined them doing whenever they were alone. When they left, he shook Boyd’s hand and told Raylan he was sorry to hear about his mother. 

When Raylan finished school and went to Glynco to train for the Marshal service, Boyd stayed to finish his degree. It was a hard year for both of them, but also helpful. They both learned that they could survive on their own, if they absolutely needed to. They spent almost all of winter and spring breaks in bed, though Raylan made a point of bringing Boyd out to a bar one night and introducing him to some people he knew from his classes. It was obvious they’d heard about him, and Boyd didn’t stop smiling the whole time they were there. 

Raylan’s first posting for the Marshals was in Salt Lake City. The landscape was strange to them, eerily beautiful, especially at night, but unfriendly. The people were equally unfriendly, particularly when they understood what their relationship was. Most of the people Raylan worked with were transplants from elsewhere, so that ended up being mostly okay - a mixed bag like everywhere else, and better once they were all used to him - but Boyd had a hard time. They both hated it there, but Raylan loved his job. 

Boyd applied to graduate schools almost obsessively, and when he was accepted to the Comparative Literature program at UT Austin, he asked Raylan to put in a transfer request. They were happy there for about six years. Boyd got a job teaching high school, and Raylan built a reputation for himself with the Marshals. 

One September morning, when they were having coffee before work on their back porch, Boyd said he wanted to see more green. And he wanted snow. 

Raylan looked at the openings currently available, and there wasn’t much of anything in any place that would fulfill those requirements, plus his own. He didn’t want to live in the northeast, or in the midwest. He didn’t want a large city, although a small one was fine. He didn’t want a place where people vehemently didn’t want them - he’d gotten his fill of that in Salt Lake pretty fast, not to mention all that time in Harlan before. Austin was the most accepting place they’d ever lived, and he didn’t want to leave there unless it was just right. But he understood how Boyd felt, all the same. It was so fucking hot there, all the goddamn time.

He kept checking in, until one day his boss called him on it. He’d asked him why he was so anxious to leave, and if he could help. 

“Nah, it ain’t anything here. And Austin’s great, it’s just... Boyd wants seasons. And if I’m being honest, I do too.”

“Well,” he said, “I don’t know if you checked it yet today, but there’s an opening in Lexington, Kentucky.”

Raylan’s eyes shot wide, and then he burst out laughing. When he stopped laughing and got his breath back, he said, “You have no idea how terrible an idea that would be. Dear god, that would be a disaster of untold proportions.”

He told Boyd later that night, lying in bed, and Boyd didn’t even laugh. He just made a face and said, “Tell me you only mentioned that because you thought it might amuse me, and not in any way because you want me to consider it.”

“Jesus, no. If anything, I was worried _you_ would want me to consider it. I don’t want to go back there. Ever.”

Boyd let out a breath and kissed him hard. 

Nearly a year after Boyd had first mentioned it, an opening came available that he was definitely interested in. Raylan’s face split into a wide grin when he saw it, and he got the paperwork started that morning. 

Boyd was already home when Raylan got there, grading papers on the couch. He looked up, took off his glasses and smiled. “Hey. How was your day?”

“My day, Boyd, was a good day. How was yours?”

Boyd looked at him funny, like he was acting weird, which he was. “My day was fine, Raylan. What’s going on?”

“I think we should go out for dinner tonight.” Raylan was grinning now. 

“Okay... sure. Raylan, what is your deal?”

“I got a question for you, that’s all.”

Boyd looked faintly alarmed. 

“No, not that one,” Raylan laughed. “Something else.”

“You’re killing me, son. Out with it.”

“Alright. How would you like to go see the big sky?”

Boyd smiled at him, probably remembering that long-ago conversation, in the hotel room in Tennessee. “You want to take a vacation in Montana? Camping trip or something?” 

“Nope. I want to move there. There’s an opening in western Montana, Boyd. Great Falls. What do you think about that?”

Boyd thought it sounded as good as Raylan had hoped he would. Raylan finished out his career in that office, and Boyd taught for twenty-five years at a school two towns over. They went back to Kentucky for two more funerals (Bowman’s and Helen’s) and one wedding (Johnny’s).

They went camping every August until the one before Raylan died. He’d been too sick, so Boyd just sat with him and they looked at pictures of all the trips they’d taken before. They talked about those, and of the trips they’d taken before they’d had a camera to bring. 

They talked about that first trip, and how scared they’d been, and how much hope they’d held in their hearts. They talked about the boys they'd been as if they were different people entirely. They felt grateful to them. "They were brave," Boyd said. "They were too stupid not to be," Raylan answered.

Raylan passed a month later. Boyd never missed another year in the woods after that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written to cheer myself up. It actually sort of worked. I hope it did for you also.


End file.
